


Feather Collection

by ViLaVi



Category: Teen Titans (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:02:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 62,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25887781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViLaVi/pseuds/ViLaVi
Summary: Attachment and affection are new concepts for both of them. Fortunately, he's a quick study and she's a natural. Series of oneshots featuring Raven and Robin V. Stories taking place around events shown in the DCAMU, plus a couple AU.
Relationships: Raven & Damian Wayne, Raven/Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Raven
Comments: 125
Kudos: 471





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Quarantine has gotten me back into writing, we’ll see how rusty I am. Anyways, I absolutely loved Apokolips War and have overall been a pretty huge fan of the DCAMU. One thing that really stood out to me as being well-executed throughout the movies is Damian Wayne’s character development and his relationship to Raven. Suffice to say, I’m super bummed that we likely won’t be seeing any more of them now that DC has reset again. 
> 
> So, it’s up to fans to create more content with them! Hope you enjoy.

Damian paced the tower restlessly. He’d had endless doubts about the assault on Apokolips - doubts which seemed validated given the complete radio silence since the League had boomtubed. Shazam was the only hero who had returned so far, missing a leg and gibbering about Doomsday before falling into a shell-shocked silence. 

If all had gone wrong, as it clearly had, the Titans were Earth’s last true defense. Latest readings indicated an imminent attack in the next 24 hours and he knew he should be resting for the fight to come. 

_ Assume Father is gone. Assume they all are. How can we expect to overcome the force that destroyed them? _

It was more than that. The Titans were his team, but his attachments these days seemed to run much deeper. One in particular. 

His pacing route brought him back to the common room soon enough, and for the first time in hours he found he was not alone. 

Raven was reclined on the couch, eyes closed and her head laid against the armrest. For a moment he thought she’d fallen asleep there, but her eyes opened and darted to him. 

“A bit late for you, isn’t it?” 

“Why are you still up?” he retorted somewhat indignantly. Raven was the person he both most and least wanted to see at this moment. “If the intel is right, tomorrow is not going to be pretty. You should be conserving energy," he continued. 

She said nothing, but kept her eyes on his. Raven was famously inexpressive, but Damian thought he saw something close to despair at that moment. He walked closer, never breaking eye contact. 

“I could say the same to you, Damian. And I’d be lying if I said nerves weren’t part of me being awake now.”

She sat up then, legs crossed at the ankle and hands in her lap. The poised stance he’d become so familiar with. Damian took a spot on the couch beside her and made a concerted effort to keep his eyes forward. Raven could be….distracting. 

“But if you must know, my father has been especially vocal tonight,” she confessed. “I’ve always liked the view of the city from this room. Beats staring at my walls while he’s raging at me.”

Guilt settled like a stone in Damian’s chest. Raven was such a composed and reserved person, it was easy to forget the daily torment she’d been subjected to since Trigon’s defeat. He would be surprised if anyone on the team spared a thought for it at all anymore. But he should have known better - he and Raven had shared many sleepless nights on the roof of Titan’s Tower when her father’s threats and promises of horror became too much to bear. He would do his best to distract her (difficult - he had no talent for small talk), until the sun began to peek over the horizon or pure physical exhaustion won out over the demon’s screaming. 

“You're right, though. We should be conserving energy. If you like, I can calm your mind to help you get some sleep,” Raven continued. 

“No,” he answered quickly, “...I just...I need to prepare myself mentally for tomorrow. Trust me when I say it’s more important than sleep right now.”

He chanced to look at her again and saw the same hint of despair reflected in her purple eyes. He imagined she was seeing the same thing in his gaze, if not feeling it through their empathic bond. 

“Even if we win…” she seemed to be voicing his thoughts, “How many will it take? How many of us are spending our last night alive?” She shook her head and sighed, “You can’t be thinking like that right now, Damian. We don’t even know for certain -”

“I  _ do,” _ he insisted, growing angry with her. “You saw Shazam. None of the other Leaguers have returned. You’re deluding yourself if you think this has a happy ending.” 

She fell silent but held his stare. 

“It’s possible we have Doomsday to look forward to. If anyone has a right to worry, it’s us non-powered individuals. I’d imagine Speedy, Nightwing and I are first on the chopping block,” he confided, closing his eyes. 

_ “No.”  _

He sensed movement to his right and his heart nearly stopped when Raven wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her face into his shoulder. 

“You’re not allowed to die on me, Damian. I won’t let you.” 

Her voice was so breathy and close it nearly undid him. The rational part of his brain ordered him to shove her away with a cold rebuff. Or leave the room without a word. Or scold her for her sentimentality and remind her that the upcoming fight was about survival and victory. 

He did none of those things. 

With an exhale he wrapped his arms around her waist more tightly than strictly necessary and pulled her to lie down with him on the couch. When they settled her face was buried in his chest and Damian’s chin rested comfortably atop Raven’s head. 

Under other circumstances Damian would have reveled in the feel of her body pressed flush against his, but it was not the time to linger on the carnal desires he’d been harboring lately. He closed his eyes and resolved to commit this moment to memory, just as Raven flinched against him with a sharp hiss. He looked down in slight alarm. 

Her eyes were shut tight and her teeth were bared as the red gem on her forehead pulsed with an angry light. Damian felt a flash of unbridled anger towards the jewel’s occupant and his own powerlessness to help. After a brief moment, the tension seemed to leave Raven’s body and she looked up at him apologetically. 

“Oh, he’s really not happy now,” she smiled wearily, “Worth it, though.”

Not for the first time in her presence, Damian could think of nothing to say. Instead he tightened his embrace as she settled back against his chest. Exhaustion finally seemed to tug at his eyelids and he heard Raven’s breathing start to slow as sleep took over. His last conscious thought repeated over and over as he slipped away. 

_ You’re not allowed to die on me, either. _

-

-

-

The hot water beat down on her mercilessly, weighing down her clothes and stinging her bare skin. Even so, she swore she could still smell the blood. There had been so much of it, splattered on the pavement, her hands, her face...

She shivered, despite the oppressive heat from the shower. 

**_“They are fallen, yet here you stand. I would expect nothing less, daughter.”_ **

Her father’s voice was almost soothing, affectionate. She recalled how he would use that tone in the beginning, hiding his monstrous nature as he promised her dominion over the world. It had been a long time since she’d heard it. 

**_“I feel your pain, little bird. All those you loved have perished, and you have no reason to keep me imprisoned any longer. Free me, child, and I will tear this so-called New God asunder. We will take back your world.”_ **

Raven shook her head distantly, unable to find the strength to banish him from her mind. Her thoughts felt out-of-focus and she wondered absently if this was all some horrific dream. Perhaps her and Damian were still pressed together on the couch in the common room, fast asleep. 

Her father's voice hardened,  **_“Don’t try to deceive yourself. Grieve for that pathetic mortal if you must, but consider the revenge I am offering.”_ **

She didn’t respond, instead reaching for the faucet and turning up the heat. There was still so much blood, it had soaked into her cloak and hair and skin with every corpse she passed, polluting her as her teammate’s dead eyes followed her reproachfully. She had sobbed in relief when she found the Tower’s mostly intact locker room and running water, stepping under the spray fully clothed without quite realizing what she was doing.

She turned her face up to the hot water, willing it to burn her pain and tears away. Unwelcome images of the Titans flashed in her mind.

_ Beast Boy taking a selfie and wheedling her to try his vegan chili. Beast Boy, staring sightlessly, tiger fur clotted with red. _

_ Jaime asking for her help with Tracy’s birthday present. Jaime, his head an unrecognizable mess of bone and gore.  _

_ Kori smiling at her warmly. Kori, bisected.  _

_ Donna flying unsteadily above the Tower. Donna, broken in the rubble. _

_ Damian holding her against him as they drifted into sleep. Damian… _

She swallowed a cry against the onslaught of memories, whispering her mantra frantically.  _ Some protector I turned out to be. _

**_“Raven,”_** the voice was soothing again, **_“free me, child. There is nothing left to fight for.”_**

Her left hand began to rise slowly towards the gem on her forehead. Her body felt as sluggish as her mind, and she couldn't tell whether she was moving or Trigon was. Her fingertips brushed the red shard lightly. 

**_“That’s it, Raven. All will be forgiven, daughter. It’s time to-”_ **

“Raven, stop!”

It was as if she’d been struck by lightning. She jolted her hand away from her face and stared at it in horror. Had she really been just about to…?

Hands gripped her shoulders then, pulling her from the shower spray. Her sodden cloak tangled in her legs and she scrabbled at his forearms to keep her balance. Green and purple finally met, disbelievingly. 

**_“FREE ME, RAVEN! YOU FILTHY, UNGRATEFUL WITCH!”_ **

Raven winced against the onslaught, her father's fury at being thwarted almost greater than when she’d first sealed him. Through it her eyes stayed locked on Damian’s, terrified that he would vanish if she so much as blinked. 

Without speaking, he unclasped her cloak and the wet fabric fell to the shower tiles with a heavy thump. His gaze was frantic but determined as he looked her over, checking for any injuries beneath her soaked, skintight leotard. Finally satisfied, he met her stare again with an exhale. 

“You’re not injured?” he asked in a labored voice. 

Raven could only stare wordlessly, afraid to blink, speak, or move. Certain that this was some kind of hallucination as her mind began to feel drugged again. Seconds passed, or were they minutes?

“Raven…” his gaze and tone took on an agitated edge, “snap out of it. You're stronger than this and I need you here with me.”

Another shock went through her, smaller than the previous one but no less grounding. As if to verify that this was really happening, her father’s rage slammed against her consciousness again, bellowing threats.

“Damian,” she finally murmured, blinking to clear her head. He nodded, closing his eyes with another sigh. 

The expression on his maskless face was pained, and she realized now how forced his voice and breathing were. Glancing down, she saw the horrific wound to his torso and the gleam of white bone peeking through his armor. A strangled sob escaped her, and she instinctively reached forward to heal him. 

“It’s fine for now,” he said, catching her hand. 

She shook her head, not quite trusting herself to speak. With a strength she didn’t know she still had, she pulled free from his grip and laid her palm gently against the wound, letting her magic do its work. When she finally pulled her hand back, she saw it was covered in blood again and stared in fascinated horror. 

Damian grabbed her hand lightly, guiding it back under the shower spray and rinsing away the evidence of his injury. She gripped him back fiercely once she was clean, past caring about boundaries as she stepped forward and leaned against his chest and shoulder. He didn't protest despite her wet skin and clothes, bowing his head slightly against hers.

They stood together for an eternity before he pushed her away lightly and reached down to pick up her dripping cloak.

"We have to keep moving, those things could come back at any minute," he said forcefully.

"Where?" she breathed weakly.

"The League of Assassins. They'll take us in, both of us. I'll make sure of it." 

Cloak bunched in one fist, he grabbed her hand again to lead her outside. Raven steeled herself, trying to draw courage from his determined aura and the strength of his grip. They emerged into the desolation surrounding Titan's Tower, and she blinked against the hazy, unclean sunlight. Damian scanned the sky above for threats before speaking again.

"No one else is left," a statement, not a question.

"I don't think so," she murmured anyways. He squeezed her hand, and she was uncertain which of them he was trying to reassure.

"I have a League contact in Jump. Assuming they're still alive, they can arrange an extraction for us," he turned to look at her, "We can lead them together, use them to help what's left of humanity. You're strong, they'll learn to follow you."

_ Only Damian can be so certain of anything in the middle of the apocalypse. _

She gazed at him openly, bathing in the soft expression he always seemed to have for her. Damian had written his name on her heart long ago, and she would follow him into oblivion if he asked.

**_"Pitiful,"_ ** her father's voice was cold and heavy with malice,  **_"Mark me, child. When I am free I will tear him apart slowly. The day will come when you think yourself safe and happy, and you will awake bathed in his blood. This I promise. Ego reddam."_ **

_ I repay. _

Raven inhaled sharply, yanking her hand from Damian's and clutching at her head. 

"Never!" she snarled, tears building behind her eyes. 

But it could happen. Trigon nearly had her today, and the emotional trauma she'd endured had weakened her horribly. Even though he had quieted, she could feel him just beneath the surface, watching and waiting for her to slip.

Damian rested a hand against her shoulder, familiar with the scene and waiting for it to pass. When she finally raised her head, her eyes were burning with unshed tears and his look became wary.

"I can't go with you," she whispered brokenly. If he knew the reason, he would insist she come. He was too prideful to be cowed by Trigon. "It's...just not my place, Damian." 

_ A lie, my love. My place is wherever you are. But it isn't safe. _

She could tell he wanted to argue, and behind his emotional wall she felt the briefest flash of pain. Just as quickly as she sensed his turmoil, he hid it away from her and nodded curtly. 

"I...respect your decision. Wherever you go, promise to take care of yourself," his voice was perfectly controlled as he withdrew his hand from her shoulder.

She nodded, imprinting this last look at him into her memory, "You too, Damian."

With that, he turned on his heel and walked out of her life, taking her heart and soul with him.

"I hate you," she told her father, finally allowing a lone tear to spill.

Trigon said nothing.

-

-

It had been two days since Damian's departure, and Raven was still at the Tower.

She had dedicated herself to burying the fallen heroes that littered the landscape, reciting Azarathean rites and apologizing for failing them. Raven was beside herself when she found Kori's body was missing, rage and disgust coiling within her at the idea Darkseid wasn't finished with her sister.

When the last Titan had been laid to rest, she wandered to the shoreline with a half-formed idea for what was next. Serendipitously, she found what she was looking for right away.

She lifted the shattered piece of metal, taking a moment to admire the cruel point.

**_"Don't be foolish, daughter."_ **

She ignored him. Why shouldn't she end her pain? Hadn't he told her there was nothing left to fight for?

**_"Release me, then do what you will with your own miserable life. Heed me and I may spare that pathetic whelp."_ **

She made a small, disbelieving sound in the back of her throat. Trigon would never suffer Damian to live. But she could remove the threat with one quick move, and in doing so, slip from this agonizing reality into nothingness.

She fell to her knees, staring over the ocean to the distant horizon. Gripping her weapon with both hands, she closed her eyes and aimed for the throat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even though it's summer I felt like writing a Christmas story (the heat might be getting to me). Can be AU or seen as taking place sometime between JLvsTT and Apokolips War. Character age in this is ~15-16 and it ended up a lot longer than I originally anticipated - hopefully it's easy to follow throughout POV changes and small time jumps.

Raven tapped her fingers nervously against her thighs, wishing she had her cloak to hide her fidgeting. As ever, the expression on her face was carefully neutral as she forced herself to meet Bruce Wayne's gaze and thank him for his hospitality.

"The pleasure is all ours, Raven," he replied smoothly, "We certainly wouldn't want you to be alone for the holidays."

His tone was light and gracious, and Raven wondered why some of his decorum had yet to rub off on Damian. At the same time, her empathic ability had her clued in to the curious and suspicious undercurrent behind the words. Whether he was wearing the cowl or not, Batman's emotions were always locked down tight and never far from hostility.

"If you'll follow me, Miss Roth, I'd be more than happy to show you to your room. I'm sure you'd like to refresh a bit after the long trip here," Alfred cut in.

She nodded gratefully, having taken an instant liking to the refined old butler. He seemed to have a talent for injecting a sense of normalcy into the decidedly not-normal world of Wayne Manor. As she moved to pick up her bag, Damian brushed past and lifted it without sparing her a glance or a word. If Bruce or Alfred thought it odd, they were nice enough not to say so. Raven for her part was used to him hiding his unease with impatience.

As she tagged along, she reflected back onto the circumstances that brought her here and wondered for the umpteenth time whether she'd made a mistake.

* * *

_Raven lounged in the spacious kitchen at Titan's Tower, book in hand and mug on the counter. Dick and Kori had taken their leave an hour past for a couples getaway, and Jaime and Garfield had been gone for a few days now. It was early morning on December 22nd, and crime was almost non-existent in Jump City. Since joining the Titans, Raven had been consistently surprised by how even criminals seemed to behave during this time of year. What few ne'er do wells did show their faces were easily taken care of by the police, leaving not much for the superhero team to occupy their time with. With that, it wasn't a hard sell to let everyone off the leash to head home for the holidays._

_This would be Raven's first year entirely alone at the Tower. Previously, she could count on Kori to stay behind with her (given her only family was a homicidal sister half a galaxy away), but she didn't begrudge her taking off with her longtime boyfriend. When Starfire first told her of their plans, guilt had been rolling off of her in waves and suffocating Raven until she could finally convince the Tamaranean that she'd be just fine. Garfield was off visiting the Doom Patrol, Jaime could finally control the Scarab enough to be with his relatives, and Damian was of course recalled to Gotham and his bat-family. So, here she was._

_While Raven was a bit sad to see everyone go, she was hardly new at coping with solitude. She figured she'd get a head start by loitering in their normally bustling kitchen rather than retiring immediately to her room and books. So it was a surprise when the door suddenly opened and a fully uniformed Robin strode in._

" _I thought you'd already left?" she supplied, not bothering to hide her surprised tone._

" _I was supposed to yesterday, flight got changed," he replied, pulling off his mask. "Decided to get one last patrol in before I leave today."_

" _I woulda thought you'd be going home in the Batwing, or at least a private jet. You mean you have to cram into a regular plane like the rest of us peasants?" she teased as he rolled his eyes._

" _I suspect father might be trying to teach me something. I choose not to get it. When are you getting out of here?"_

_She blinked at him, "I'm not? Where exactly would I go?"_

_He met her eyes with a frown. "So you're just going to stay here alone?"_

_Concern had crept into his tone and Raven felt a nervous flutter. Damian had been growing more and more expressive with her lately, and their resulting closeness had caused her many sleepless nights overanalyzing the could-be's and would-be's between them._

" _I think I can manage, it's really not a big deal," she replied, breaking their gaze and chastising herself to keep it together._

" _Do you want to come to Gotham with me?"_

_Her eyes snapped back to his and she was momentarily speechless. His green eyes stared into hers fearlessly and after a few seconds his look became expectant._

_She felt the color rushing to her cheeks and found her voice, "I….I'd...that's really nice, but…wouldn't you need to check with Batman? Isn't it all a little….last minute?" she meandered, feelings of elation and trepidation warring within her._

_Damian smirked in response, seeming to enjoy seeing her so flustered. Raven felt a spike of smug satisfaction in his aura and made a mental note to get him back for it at some point._

" _It's not like we don't have the room, and it beats staying here alone. Father won't mind," he said with finality and turned to leave, "Get packed, flight's in 2 hours."_

* * *

_Bruce hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment, his face unreadable._

" _Problem, sir?" Alfred asked, "Will Master Damian still be joining us?"_

" _He's bringing a guest," Bruce replied, shaking his head slightly. "One of his teammates with nowhere else to go."_

" _Oddly considerate of him, I suppose we should be proud of his progress. I'll get a room prepared for the young lady." Alfred offered._

" _And how did you know it was a young lady?" Bruce asked with some bemusement, already predicting the answer._

" _An educated guess, sir. He_ is _at that age," with that, the butler left the room to tend to his new task._

 _Bruce rapped his fingers against the table in thought. Nightwing had been keeping him appraised of Damian's relationships with his teammates, but he was surprised his son was forthcoming enough to call and, well,_ demand _an extra ticket for Raven._

At that age, indeed _. Bruce sighed. He was getting to be quite an expert in giving Robins the "safe-sex" talk. He was particularly not looking forward to this one._

* * *

Raven meditated in her guest room, focused on soothing her frazzled nerves and recouping physically from a long day of travel. She had offered to teleport them to Gotham, but Damian was determined to suffer his father's strange lesson and prove it had no effect on him. Her emotions still seemed to be at war with each other, the thrill of being asked here doused by uncertainty surrounding her teammate's intentions and the awkwardness of being in a new place.

Three perfunctory knocks at her door ended her pondering. She unfolded from her meditative position and moved to greet her visitor, already knowing who she'd find and feeling grateful to get away from her thoughts.

Damian stood outside her door, freshly showered and sporting dark jeans and a turtleneck. For her part, Raven had hung up her cloak and leotard in favor of a long blue skirt and thick sweater.

"Not going to hide in here the whole time, are you?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

She gave him a sharp look. "Hardly, just meditating. Anyways, seeing as you're the host isn't it your job to entertain me?"

"I've just received that same lecture from Pennyworth. Figured I'd ask if you wanted to see our library." His tone was neutral, but she detected his eagerness.

"You have a library?" she breathed with a smile, his feelings combining with her own excitement. Her reaction seemed to please him, and he mirrored her smile with a small one of his own for a beat before turning away quickly. She sensed he was a bit flustered and decided she liked him that way. _Not so fun when someone does it to you, is it bird boy?_

He gestured for her to follow and she fell into step beside him, a small smile still gracing her lips. Feeling emboldened by the situation, she decided to press him a bit.

"Damian?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you for inviting me. It's a bit strange being here, but I'm glad I get to spend the holiday with you," she confided, heart pounding as she wondered if she was giving away too much. He didn't reply immediately and she felt the beginnings of worry and embarrassment.

"It's strange being here for me, too. Jump City feels more like home than Gotham. I'm glad you agreed to come," he slowly admitted, and Raven saw he was making a concerted effort to keep his eyes forward. She lightly touched his arm to bring his gaze to her.

"Anytime."

* * *

Damian watched as she compiled her book collection, black tendrils of magic whipping around the room to grab from the different sections and shelves in the library. Seeing her so happy had him oddly pleased with himself, and he resolved to keep her that way as long as he could.

He caught a glimpse of the grandfather clock and cleared his throat to get her attention. When she turned towards him, her eyes were bright and her cheeks were slightly flushed from her keyed-up state. He fought the urge to smile at her again and wondered when exactly she had gotten this hold over him.

"Dinner's probably about ready. Shall we?"

"Oh...sure. Let's go." She tossed one longing look back to her neat pile of books and met him at the library door.

Her mood seemed to shift from excitement to unease instantaneously and it wasn't until Damian thought back to their arrival that he realized why.

"Are you afraid of my father?" He asked with a smirk.

She looked at him reproachfully, "I'm not _afraid_ of him. Even if I was, isn't that kind of Batman's thing?" She grumbled and continued, "He does put me on edge a bit, though. A founding member of the Justice League, multi-billionaire, super-sleuth - you can't blame me for feeling a little out of my depth. Just what am I supposed to say to someone like that?"

Damian shrugged, "You're overthinking it. I'm also a multi-billionaire and super-sleuth, you don't seem to have any trouble there."

"It must be because you're so modest and approachable," she said dryly.

He smothered a laugh, instead bumping her shoulder with his own and shooting her a sarcastic smile as they approached the dining room.

Bruce was already seated and places had been set for the two of them. Damian surged ahead to take the seat immediately next to his father, figuring Raven would appreciate a slight buffer from the famed Dark Knight. Her amused, grateful glance told him he was correct.

"How are you settling in, Raven?" Bruce asked with a polite interest that did not seem to meet his eyes.

"Fine, thank you," she answered quickly, "You have a beautiful home. Damian showed me the library," she finished, in a clear attempt to loop the Boy Wonder into the conversation.

"That's right, Dick's told me what an avid reader you are. You're welcome to borrow anything that catches your eye." Bruce replied smoothly.

Damian, who had been picking at the plate in food in front of him, stiffened slightly. _And how exactly would that come up in conversation, father?_ He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised Batman was keeping tabs on him, but was highly affronted and annoyed at the idea of Grayson going along with it. It's not like anyone had a clue what was going on between him and Raven anyways. Hell, _he_ barely understood it.

He distantly heard Raven thank his father, before feeling her nudge his foot under the table with her own. The look in her eyes was clear; _calm down._ Damn empath. He swallowed his annoyance, and decided to change the topic.

"Will you be going on patrol tonight?" He asked his father, not bothering to keep the edge out of his voice.

Bruce ignored his irritated tone. "Yes, shortly in fact. Gotham is restless this time of year and Joker is at large." His eyes flicked between the two teens, "You will stay here tonight" he said in a tone that brooked no argument.

Damian felt his anger spike and opened his mouth to object, before Raven's foot nudged him again. He debated the merits of having a full-blown argument with his father in front of her and decided against it.

Bruce quickly finished his own dinner in the uncomfortable silence that followed, before taking his leave with a nod and smile. Raven exhaled after he left.

"You two are _exhausting_ ," she said loftily.

Damian kept his eyes down, anger and resentment still swirling within him. He couldn't shake the feeling his father had just pulled a power-play on him, both by letting him know he was being watched at the Tower and by taking advantage of Raven's presence to stave off an argument about patrol. The more he thought about it, the more his mood seemed to blacken.

Raven laid her hand gently over his own, and he reflexively turned up his palm to lace their fingers together. It was a move they'd mastered back at home that she used to ground Damian when he was caught in what she called his "negative feedback loops."

"Come on, then," she said, rising, "I don't think either of us have much of an appetite anymore."

He stood with her, still hand in hand, and there was a swirl of black magic as she teleported them to the roof. The sky was black and overcast, unlike the starry nights they were used to on the west coast, but the familiar setting was welcome to both of them.

"I'm starting to think we both should have just stayed in Jump," he grumbled as they sat on the ledge.

"Maybe," she conceded. "But it sounds like there's more action here, you would have been bored to death in Jump."

He scoffed, "Hardly matters, I won't get to actually _see_ any of the action here."

"Hmm.." Raven sighed, tapping her fingernails against the cold stone, "You know, I've never been to Gotham. And I don't think I got a good feel for it on the drive here from the airport. Let's you and me do our own patrol tomorrow night," she offered.

"And what makes you think he'd let us?" Damian bit back angrily. She jabbed him in the ribs playfully and he turned to face her, only to be floored by the sly smirk and spark of mischief in her amethyst eyes.

"So don't ask. Ever heard it's better to get forgiveness than permission? Besides, I'm not convinced the great Damian Wayne has never snuck out before," she goaded lightly.

He smirked back at her. Mischievous, conspiratorial Raven was a new edition, and one he rather liked. She gave his hand a squeeze and he realized that his previously black mood had all but receded.

"Alright," he finally said, "It's a date."

* * *

Raven curled into her bed, willing her body to reheat itself after her and Damian's chilly rooftop conversation. It had been an emotionally fatiguing day, particularly after the onslaught of hostile emotion at dinner, but rest didn't seem to come easily.

She couldn't help analyzing what she'd seen of this unorthodox father-son dynamic. She remembered Damian when he'd first come to the Tower, his imperiousness and bravado fooling the rest of the team while she could sense only bone-deep loneliness, distrust, and self-doubt. It wasn't until after they'd defeated Trigon and began to truly gravitate towards each other that he let her see through the cracks in his armor.

There was his grandfather, of course, who'd groomed Damian since birth to be his ruthless enforcer in a perfect, authoritarian world. There was a mother who tried to reprogram him into a mindless slave and attempted to kill him when she was unsuccessful. There was Talon, who'd exploited Damian's fractious relationship with his father to try and bring down the Bat.

And more than anything, there was Batman himself. A father who Damian suspected never truly wanted him. Who always seemed to doubt his abilities, motives, and intentions. Who alternately locked him away like some shameful secret or shipped him off to a pack of strangers when they couldn't stop clashing.

The end result was someone who was almost wholly incapable of trust and affection. How not, when all those in his life who were meant to protect and love him had failed so completely. In time, he had begun to internalize their treatment of him. Perhaps they were right. He was a weapon. He couldn't trust his moral instincts or judgement of character. He wasn't... _good_ the way she and the other Titans were. Perhaps he just wasn't meant to be a hero.

When he confided this to her, Raven's embrace had been rough and sudden and he'd tried to pull away in alarm. She wouldn't let him. In a quiet voice with her lips only inches away from his ear, she told him how wrong he was. He'd protected her from the Corruptors and the Justice League, he'd followed her into Hell and fought his own grandfather, he'd convinced her to stay with them at every turn when the rest of the team had been silent. She had _felt_ his mind and knew who he was, she reminded him. She promised that no matter what happened, she would never doubt him, never be afraid of him. Then, tightening her already fierce grip, she promised she would never abandon him as long as he wanted her there.

It had undeniably been a turning point for them, she mused. Since that night their time alone together had been more frequent, casual touches more sensuous. Being with him here in Gotham seemed to escalate things further - Raven wasn't sure she'd ever seen Damian as expressive and content as he'd been today. _Excepting dinner_ , she added mentally. With the Titans, Damian's smiles were spare and slight and she had learned to treasure every one. But after today, she was almost getting used to seeing that expression on his face.

She thought back to how black and angry his aura was around his father. Her fear of the Dark Knight was replaced by slight anger and protectiveness over her teammate - she was not a stupid girl and identified Bruce's offhand comment about her reading habits for exactly what it was. She wasn't sure what benefit the Bat saw in alienating his son, but resolved to counteract any ensuing negativity to the best of her ability. _An unsanctioned patrol (date!) seems just the ticket_ she thought, finally starting to doze.

* * *

The day was chilly, but uncharacteristically bright for Gotham. Damian found Raven in the library, already making heavy progress on her reading list, and bid her good morning before heading to the Batcave for a workout.

He found his father there and after a brief flash of anger, greeted him neutrally. There were no new tears or cuts on the Batsuit, suggesting it had been an uneventful evening.

"It was a quiet night, you didn't miss much," Batman confirmed, keeping his eyes glued to the enormous monitor before him.

Damian rolled his eyes, guessing it was as good an apology as he could expect. "I doubt the holiday spirit from Jump City is spreading here. I'm sure Joker has something planned."

Bruce grunted in agreement, before finally turning his gaze on Damian. "I don't suppose you want to spar with your old man?"

The Boy Wonder perked up instantly - despite how he felt about his father, their sparring sessions were never anything less than exhilarating and _highly_ instructive. Minutes later, father and son faced each other, bo staffs in hand.

Damian made the first move, feinting left before bringing his staff up in a high right-hand swing. His father blocked it with ease and countered with a jab to the midsection, which was avoided with a quick twist.

"You're not neglecting your guest, are you?" Bruce asked, avoiding a leg sweep.

"This isn't a babysitting arrangement, she doesn't need someone constantly hovering over her," he retorted stiffly, catching a light blow on his knuckles and grumbling slightly.

For a moment there was no further conversation, the silence only broken by the clacking of wood-on-wood and the heavy breathing of the combatants. Damian landed a lucky hit to the right knee before pulling back a couple yards for a quick breather.

Bruce shook off the pain and began to advance. "I was surprised when you asked her here," he said levelly.

Damian's eyes narrowed into a glare. "Why? With all the time you and Grayson spend gossiping I figured you'd see it coming," he closed the rest of the distance between them and his swings and jabs suddenly seemed a bit more forceful. "Is there anything he left out? Favorite hangout spots, hobbies, foods? Maybe you need to know her astrological sign?" He punctuated each question with a ringing blow, keeping his father on defense.

"It's not like that, Damian. Did you ever consider I was asking Dick out of polite interest? I want to know when things are going well in your personal life," Bruce rebutted.

The younger Wayne pulled back momentarily, glare still in place. "Don't patronize me, father. I know you better than that."

Bruce sighed and gave a small smirk. "Worth a shot."

Damian launched himself back into attack, hammering again and again. His father was highly skilled, but he felt strong and enraged and landed a couple choice blows on the back and elbow before beginning to tire. He felt himself stumble and all momentum was lost. The next thing he knew, he was on his back with a staff at his throat.

"You've improved quite a bit," Bruce said appraisingly, "But you're still too easy to rile up. All I had to do was wait for you to wear yourself out." Damian refused to look at him, keeping his eyes locked on a particularly interesting patch of ceiling as footsteps receded. He heard the staves being put away before his father left the room with one final consideration.

"For the record, she seems like a nice girl."

* * *

Raven glanced up at the sound of the library door opening, unsurprised to see Damian.

"Want to go into town?" He asked abruptly.

She blinked. "Um, sure. You get a good workout in?" She inquired as she unfolded her legs and stretched her arms languorously.

"Good enough, just sick of being locked up here. Robin and Raven may not be allowed out, but I don't see why Damian and Rachel can't spend some time in public," he said with a shrug and smile.

Raven smiled back, flattered that he'd remembered her civilian alias. Since Bruce Wayne had presented his "adopted" son to Gothamites a couple years past, he was right that there was no reason they be forbidden to leave.

"Let me go change into something warmer, so far I'm not a fan of these east coast winters. Where should I meet you?" She asked.

"Out by the main doors, I'll bring the car around," He stated, turning to leave.

" _You're_ driving? Do you even have a license?" She objected, following him to the door.

"I know how. And believe it or not, this is something my father actually _lets_ me do. It doesn't make any sense to take up Pennyworth's time shepherding us around."

"And if we get pulled over?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

He smirked smugly, "I'm filthy rich, remember? They'll let us go."

She had to laugh, and saw Damian's smile broaden as she did. "Let's hope you're right, bird boy."

She met him in front of Wayne Manor's opulent entrance 15 minutes later, sporting a bomber jacket (the warmest she owned), a scarf, and a beanie to hide the red gem that any informed onlooker would associate with Raven of the Titans. She'd traded her skirt for a pair of jeans, knowing she would still be uncomfortably cold.

Damian, by contrast, was lightly dressed and seemed unperturbed by the chill around them. He glanced her up and down as she took her spot in the passenger seat with a bemused look.

"Don't pick on me," she admonished, reading the expression on his face. "I _really_ don't care for the cold."

"As a half-demon, I would think you'd have more...constitution? It's just surprising is all," he explained, dropping the car into gear and making his way up the long driveway.

"I was raised in _Hell_. Then went directly from there to California. Cold and snow has never been part of the equation." Raven felt oddly defensive. She knew she could use her magic to make herself more comfortable, and she was _certain_ her red-skinned, four-eyed form would have no problem at any temperature, but allowing herself this weakness made her feel more human. There were a lot of people that shared her natural intolerance and she took solace in that when she was feeling too far removed from her mother's side.

"It's alright, I find it endearing," Damian said conversationally, keeping his eyes on the road.

She looked up in surprise, "Do you?" her tone was slightly suspicious.

He was still focused on the road, but she could see the lightness in his expression. "Why wouldn't I? Raven, powerful witch and daughter of Trigon, brought low by a 55 degree forecast. You're full of surprises," he finished, and she could see the faintest blush on his face.

Her own face suddenly felt warm, and she stared out her window at the landscape racing by as they made their way to the city. It wasn't a conventional compliment, and an outsider might have taken it for mocking, but the color in his cheeks and the nervous happiness she felt radiating from him made her feel she was being flattered. _Who knew Damian Wayne could flirt?_

* * *

Damian parked the car on a residential street adjacent to the commercial district he'd decided to take Raven to. It was a wealthy area, and he was hardly worried about car thieves despite the flashiness of his vehicle.

 _Only one thing left to do before the day can get started properly_ , Damian thought, swallowing his nerves. As they were passing a narrow alleyway between two posh condominiums, he grabbed Raven somewhat forcefully by the upper arm and pulled her in with him.

"What are yo-" he interrupted her startled question with a forceful gaze and put a finger to his lips.

Her color changed alarmingly and he could see the thrum of her pulse in her throat as he put his lips to her ear. "We need to check for a bug. I can guarantee father put one somewhere on you." He'd already checked his own clothes thoroughly. She stilled against him and Damian took the moment to appreciate her proximity and the lavender scent he'd come to associate with her.

She was breathing shallowly and slowly lifted a hand to his chest to push him back slightly. Her cheeks were still rosy and she seemed a little twitchy, but she met his eyes and nodded.

Damian tentatively indicated the zipper on her jacket, and took the liberty of pulling off her beanie. Her dark hair was mussed slightly from the disruption and combined with her small harsh breaths and elevated color, he had to fight back a litany of inappropriate thoughts. He busied himself with inspecting the hat thoroughly but found nothing and gently pulled it back over her head, making sure her telltale red gem was covered.

Raven had removed her jacket and he moved to help her look through it, feeling a spike of affection and guilt as she shivered. He had meant what he said, it _was_ endearing to him. His reflection was interrupted when he finally found it, as small as a grain of rice and hidden at the bottom of one zippered pocket.

Fury momentarily overcame Raven's shivers and embarrassment, and her eyes flashed white for the second it took to destroy the bug with magic. She quickly yanked her jacket back on and whirled towards Damian.

"Is this how your family treats _all_ their guests?!" She demanded indignantly.

Damian's mouth drew down slightly, "Basically, yes." He thought about reminding her he'd put a tracer on her when they first met, but decided it wouldn't help things.

She sighed and he saw the tension leave her. "At least I don't have to take it personally then," she muttered with her eyes on the ground.

He gripped her hand lightly, an apologetic expression on his face. "Come on. Let's... find something to take your mind off it?" he offered.

She nodded, meeting his eyes and giving his hand a squeeze. Neither of them released their grip as they returned to the sidewalk and entered the bustling retail district and soon enough Raven's spirits seemed to return.

As they passed a series of high-end stores, Damian regaled her with the corrupt business exploits each one was guilty of. Raven listened attentively, but it wasn't long before he noticed her eyes darting around and felt her fingers drum nervously against his.

"What's wrong?"

"We're getting a lot of stares. I'm not used to public attention without my hood on," she admitted.

"Just ignore them, Gotham is full of gawkers and gossip-mongers obsessed with my family."

Despite his reassurance, he pulled Raven into a nearby coffee shop to give her a break from the public eye. He knew from experience the scrutiny was hard to get used to and silently made a note to keep her away from any tabloid stands throughout the remainder of their stay.

They picked out a somewhat isolated table in the back, and Damian could tell Raven was grateful to be away from the chill and the stares. She wrapped both her hands around her warm mug, "Before I drink this, the owner of this shop hasn't kicked any puppies, have they? It seems like everyone else on this street is guilty of something," she teased.

He rolled his eyes and smirked, "Not to my knowledge. I promise not to let you patronize any puppy-kicking establishments."

"That's an easy promise to keep. Even if I wanted to, I doubt I could afford anything in this neighborhood," she replied with a good-natured smile before taking a long drink from her mug.

Damian blinked, and was suddenly embarrassed to realize he hadn't remotely considered what kind of budget Raven might be working with when he chose to bring her here. He was about to reassure her that he would buy anything she wanted when they were interrupted.

"Damian Wayne! Imagine running into you here!" A high-pitched, falsely cheery voice said from behind him.

He bit back a groan, already knowing who he'd see and hoping this would be over soon. He turned around, making no effort to keep the annoyance from his voice or expression. "Vreeland."

"Oh, honestly. How many times do I have to tell you to call me Ronnie?" Fifteen year-old Veronica Vreeland's green eyes flashed in conjunction with her painted-on smile. "You remember Pierce Chapman, of course?"

The stout, dark-haired boy in question stood to her left, and was looking past him at Raven with an interested glint in his otherwise haughty gaze. "Wayne," he greeted, finally meeting Damian's eyes, "Always a rare pleasure bumping into you."

"Likewise," Damian replied dryly, "Til next time, then." He turned back to Raven who was giving him a look of curious amusement.

"Oh, but you simply must introduce us to your friend," Ronnie insisted, moving forward and holding her hand out to the empath. "I'm Ronnie Vreeland, Damian and I go _way_ back," she said with a gloating tone.

"Not really." Damian rebutted. Ronnie had been introduced to him shortly after his "adoption" was finalized, and had made no secret of her desire to marry into Gotham's prestigious "first family." Her advances towards him were as persistent as they were unsubtle, and Damian had developed a particularly powerful disdain for her.

She ignored him, "As I mentioned, this is Pierce. His family owns most of the Gotham Palisades. And you are...?"

"Rachel Roth," Raven offered politely, "A friend of Damian's from boarding school. It's nice to meet you." She gave Ronnie's hand a light shake.

"Charmed! Aren't you just lovely?" The redhead exclaimed, "Roth, was it? I'm sorry to say I don't recognize the name." Damian saw her eyeing Raven from head to toe, knowing she was cataloguing the lack of affluence and wealth reflected in his teammate's wardrobe and demeanor. Ronnie's eyes seemed to narrow slightly and her smile spread just a little wider. He knew Raven saw it too, by the guarded look that appeared in her eyes and the way she straightened.

"Tell us, Rachel," Pierce drawled, "What brings you to Gotham? Do you have family here?" There was a slightly mocking edge to the question and Damian felt his blood start to boil.

"No," she answered, warmth gone from her voice, not bothering to elaborate.

"I invited her," Damian said hotly, "so why don't you-"

"Truly?" Ronnie interjected, turning towards him and laying a manicured hand on his shoulder, "That's just so _sweet_ of you, Damian! To give her a place to go," Her voice was sickeningly saccharine and he opened his mouth for a furious retort, but Raven beat him to it.

"Isn't it, though?" she purred. Ronnie's head snapped back towards her in surprise, but Raven's eyes were locked on Damian's and the look in them was scintillating. She smirked at him and with effortless grace, reached across the table to lace her fingers with his. "I'm a _very_ lucky girl," she finished, not bothering to check the redhead's reaction.

Damian was mesmerized, reflexively pulling on Raven's hand and running a thumb across her knuckles. He answered her smirk with one of his own, before finally tearing his eyes away to meet Ronnie Vreeland's stunned gaze. Her forced smile and cheer were gone, and she yanked her hand from his shoulder as if burned.

"Well," she said stiffly, "I think we've taken enough of your time. Let's be off, Pierce," She threw a look of undisguised contempt at Raven and finally turned to leave. Her companion stayed a moment longer, staring at the empath in a way that had Damian wanting to tear his eyes out. He finally nodded at them both before following his incensed partner.

Damian's smirk had morphed into a genuine smile by then, and he gave Raven an appraising look.

"And I used to think _you_ were insufferable," she said matching his smile and pulling back her hand to his disappointment. "How upset would you be if I sent them to another dimension?"

"I think I'd get along just fine," he replied without missing a beat.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, and Damian nursed his drink while replaying the encounter in his mind. He was sure the rumor-mill would be in full effect by tomorrow and bristled at the kind of thoughts and comments he was sure would be directed towards Raven. High society was not forgiving to perceived interlopers.

* * *

"There's no way I'm letting you buy that," she declared, crossing her arms.

Damian shrugged, turning with his prize and taking a step towards the registers. She was in front of him in an instant, hand on his chest and stubborn look on her face. "I'm serious. It's too expensive and I don't need it," she was almost pleading and he stilled in confusion.

"I want to get it for you, and I hardly care how much it costs. Rich, remember?" he tried to reassure her.

"That's not the point," she replied, trying to pull it out of his grasp.

"What is the point?"

She gave up trying to yank it out of his hands, "First, it would make me feel bad - I could never get you anything as nice as this. Second, how do you think it looks to your father or your society friends if you spend this much money on me?"

"I don't care what they think, and neither should you."

Damian was growing more confused and slightly defensive. He had pulled Raven into this store (true to his word, a non-puppy-kicking establishment) when she'd stopped to look longingly at a fashionable winter coat in the window. She was amused at first, assuring him it was well outside her price-range, but he insisted they check it out. The coat in question was knee-length, red virgin wool/cashmere twill lined in silk, and over $10,000.

"Do I have to spell it out for you? It makes me look like a golddigger. And again, I don't _need_ it, did you forget we live in California?" She reached for the coat again to try and take it from him.

He caught her grasping hand and the response on his tongue was as quick as it was natural, "You'll need it for the next time you come here with me."

She looked up at him, no response at the ready. Realizing what he said, and feeling his face redden, he turned his head and cleared his throat. When he thought he had his expression back under control, he met her eyes again. There was a question dancing in her violet orbs, and she seemed to be trying to muster the courage to voice it. Instead she blinked and shook her head as if to clear her thoughts.

"Even so," she said a bit scratchily, "It's too much - I don't want people getting the wrong idea and I would feel guilty if you spent that kind of money on me."

"I want to get it for you," Damian repeated stubbornly, "And I don't care what anyone thinks about that. If it helps with the guilt, think of it as repayment for getting rid of Vreeland and Chapman earlier." He smiled at her in a way that he was starting to realize was reserved for Raven. "So, in actuality, you've earned this and it's not a gift."

She sighed and Damian sensed victory. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"I know." He agreed bluntly, finally stepping around her and approaching the till.

* * *

Snow had begun to fall lightly by the time they departed and started to make their way back to the car. Raven thankfully didn't put up much of a fight when Damian suggested she trade her bomber's jacket for the new one, and he was surprised to see how good she looked in red.

It was a quiet walk back, but not comfortably so. He could tell she was tense, and part of him wondered if he should apologize for his presumptions. At the same time, he had meant what he said about bringing her back to Gotham with him in the future and he felt reasonably confident she wanted that as well.

Damian inwardly cursed himself for being too afraid to put a name to what they had. He wasn't even sure what he was afraid of - it was obvious even to him that Raven felt something. He resolved to work it out with her on the ride back to the manor, to make sure the air was clear before their patrol tonight.

They had made it back to the residential neighborhood and Damian's musings were sharply interrupted when Raven yanked him into a familiar alleyway. She pushed him roughly against a wall and he began to protest before she crushed her lips fiercely against his, her hands fisted in the thin material of his jacket.

The smell and taste of her flooded his senses and the surprise he felt was instantly overridden when she moved closer and pressed herself against him. Before he knew it, their positions were reversed and he was kissing her hungrily against the rough stone. Her arms were locked around his neck and his hands trailed from the curve of her waist to her hips in a repeating pattern. He growled lightly when her hand slid through his hair and she ran her tongue along his bottom lip, and managed to surprise her in return by pulling away and burying his face against her neck to plant a series of kisses. She gasped and he reveled in the sound.

He raised his head to capture her lips again when a loud car horn shattered the silence. Both of them jumped and Damian took a large step back, fighting to get his heart back under control. Raven was panting heavily, and glanced at him shyly from beneath her lashes. He took in the sight; her cheeks were rosy, her lips were reddened, and her eyes were glazed with a mixture of desire and demureness. Damian was positive he'd never seen anything so beautiful. He swallowed thickly.

"So…" Raven finally said, glancing away from him, "I just had to be sure."

"You could have asked," Damian replied, and he could hear a thoroughly unfamiliar lightness in his voice, "But I appreciate your methods," he finished, taking a step back towards her.

She took her own step forward, keeping her eyes averted. "Subtlety seems lost on you, bird boy," she managed.

He skimmed his hand slowly up her arm, finally gripping her chin lightly and pulling her gaze back towards him, "Is there anything else you think I may be missing?" He asked, his tone borderline playful. Raven's cheeks were as red as her new coat and he felt a moment of possessive elation knowing that he was responsible.

Raven pushed him back a step, crossing her arms and tossing him a lopsided smile. "I'll keep you posted," she promised, brushing past him and making her way back to the sidewalk.

"I'll hold you to it," he replied, following.

* * *

It was a bracingly cold night in Gotham, unsurprising given the daytime chill they'd experienced. Raven, fully uniformed and grateful for her thick cloak, had no compunction about using her magic to keep her comfortable throughout their patrol. Hero-duty called, after all.

Robin was to her left, perched next to a gargoyle and studying the streets below avidly. They were in a very different area of the city from before, the affluence and glamor of their daytime excursion replaced with complete dilapidation. She could sense his excitement, Gotham had not seen Robin in a long time, and they were overdue to get reacquainted.

She took a moment to admire him, suppressing a blush at the day's events. He had only grown a bit taller than her in the past few years, and she always sensed a touch of insecurity about his height. That said, his chest and shoulders had broadened, and she had seen enough of him in training to know how lean and muscled he was beneath his uniform. His best feature was concealed by his mask; almond-shaped eyes that were as pale and green as a cat's.

Since her impulsive move in the alleyway, any restraint Damian may have had around her evaporated. He'd honestly never been shy about physical contact, she reflected, but feeling his unfettered desire for her while he ran his hands and lips over her skin had left her breathless and dizzy several times throughout the day. She was almost disappointed when the time came to sneak out for patrol, knowing Robin took his hero-work too seriously to let himself be distracted.

"There," he said suddenly, and Raven followed his eyeline to a large, brutish looking man walking purposefully along the cracked sidewalk. She wasn't sure why this man caught his attention compared to the other unsavory individuals who had come and gone, but she had worked with Robin long enough to trust his judgement.

"Friend of yours?" She asked.

"Frank Casazza," he replied, "Muscle for hire, exclusively for members of the Rogues gallery." He answered, keeping his eyes locked on the target as he entered a defunct looking warehouse.

 _Rogues gallery?_ Raven thought, before she remembered their previous dinner and a thrill ran through her, "I didn't realize we were after the Joker."

He smirked at her, before indicating the building the man had vanished into, "Think you could get us inside for a closer look?"

"It could be arranged," she replied, dark energy swirling around them.

They reappeared moments later in the warehouse rafters, both of them cloaked in shadow. So far the Joker was nowhere in evidence, but the building was swarming with activity. Heavily armed men paced along the perimeter, while others moved heavy crates towards the loading dock. Raven kept her eyes on them, looking for some hint of what the boxes contained.

Her observation was interrupted by a loud jovial voice, and Robin gripped her upper arm almost tightly enough to bruise.

"Keep it moving, boys! Joker's workshop is on mandatory overtime until we get that sleigh loaded!" The command was punctuated by a manic laugh from the lurid green and purple figure who materialized from the back office.

Raven could only stare at the fabled villain. He was taller and leaner than she imagined, and in his own way just as imposing at Batman. Curious, she focused on him with her empathic ability and was overwhelmed by what she felt. Mirth, bloodlust, arrogance, and manic hyper-awareness. She inhaled sharply and her eyes snapped shut as she pulled back in on herself as quickly as possible. There was a slight squeeze on her arm and she reopened her eyes to meet Robin's questioning gaze. She exhaled shakily and gave him a nod, realizing she'd bitten her bottom lip as she tasted blood. He squeezed her arm again and moved to whisper in her ear.

"Stay here," he murmured, "I'm going for a closer look."

She swallowed her protests; as a Titan she was accustomed to trusting his lead implicitly. She nodded again and kept her eyes fixated on him as he navigated stealthily towards the Clown Prince. _Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos._ She subconsciously readied herself for a fight, swallowing the blood in her mouth.

Her intense focus was interrupted by a sharp splinter of awareness in her mind, and her eyes darted back to the Joker to see a gun aimed in her direction. A black barrier materialized just in time to prevent the bullet from tearing through her body.

"I know you're there!" he cackled, "Didn't your mommy tell you how rude it was to go poking around in people's minds? Think I might have to put you on my naughty list!" Joker cackled hysterically pulling the trigger over and over again as his henchman mobilized, scanning the ceiling and rafters.

Raven transported herself back to Robin's side, both of them pressed back against a stack of wooden pallets on the ground level. "He shouldn't have sensed me," she whispered urgently, "He _couldn't_ have!" she insisted.

"Word of advice," he whispered back, "Stay out of Joker's mind no matter _what_ you think is possible."

"So what's the plan from here?"

"Well, recon is out of the question. Let's bring him in." Robin replied determinedly. Raven had to smile - thirty armed henchmen and a deranged clown against two teenagers? Sure, why not.

"Watch your back, Robin."

"I'd rather watch yours, Raven," he was smirking again and she shoved him.

"Later," she promised, summoning her magic and melting away.

As much as she was learning to dislike Batman, she was on his turf and decided to take a page from his book. Theatricality could be a powerful weapon, after all.

She re-formed in the middle of the densest group of henches as a gigantic, four-eyed raven. With her signature shrill cry, she released a concussive blast of magic to take out the bulk of them. Those who were still conscious looked at her in abject horror before scrambling to the exits. Her bird form faded and she instantly created a barrier to stave off a hail of bullets from above. In the distance, she could see Robin tearing through another crowd of goons with measured efficiency.

"Oh my! You must be the Nosy Nancy who was pawing through my brain!" She whirled and saw the Joker standing twenty feet away with his obscene grin. "Does the fabled Dark Knight know you're stealing his "striking terror" shtick? I doubt it, or he would have told you how little patience I have for unoriginality! I very much prefer bats to ravens, you see," he finished, his tone dropping sinisterly.

Raven was unafraid, though still put-off by his ability to sense her empathic touch. His unoriginality comment rubbed her further the wrong way, and she wrapped her hands in dark energy to prepare for a charge.

A whirling birdarang raced past her towards him, exploding just before contact with enough force to send the clown flying. She raised her hands to secure him in magical restraints, but a flash of movement in her peripherals told her to duck.

Harley Quinn's mallet missed her skull by centimeters, but she followed up with a fierce kick to Raven's side that sent her sprawling. She managed to turn the fall into a light backflip and was back on her feet quickly, relatively unhurt.

"Mistah J! All I see are two birdies and no batsies! I'm thinking the kids must have snuck outta the house tonight!" She chirped with a deranged smile, as her paramour recovered his feet on the far side of the room.

Raven and Robin flanked the two criminals, all henchmen fled or vanquished by this point. Raven tasted victory, but the wariness emanating from her teammate encouraged her to keep on guard. This was the Joker, after all.

"I think you must be right, Harley-girl!" The clown concurred, his brush with the birdarang evident by the strain in his voice. "Things must be slow in Jump City. I say, Boy Blunder, you need to work on your dating habits if busting up this little racket is how you show a lady a good time," he laughed, hocking blood and phlegm on the floor.

"Let me show her a _real_ Gotham welcome!" He exclaimed, pulling a detonator from his coat pocket. "All of the crates here contain my very own 'Joker-in-the-Box,' it's like a Jack-in-the-Box, but with a more exciting climax. I would have so loved to send one to all the naughty girls and boys of our fair city, after all, what does a lump of coal _really_ teach anyone?" He laughed maniacally.

"But here we are, wasting them on two self-righteous teenagers. Oh well - it's a more exciting way to go than anyone else in that highschool yearbook club of yours is going to get!" He finished, depressing the button on the device.

In that second, Raven locked his hand in her dark energy, keeping him from releasing the trigger. Harley quickly advanced, raising her mallet for a downward strike only to have the haft sliced in half by Robin's sword. He followed with a roundhouse kick to the sidekick's head and she crumpled at their feet.

"It's over, Joker," he announced, sheathing his blade, "We'll save you a page in the yearbook."

The Joker's rictus finally fell away, replaced by fury. "Trust me, brat boy, it's _not_ over," he promised.

Robin turned to his teammate, "This may be the hard part. Do you think you can contain the explosion to this building once we get everyone out?"

Raven considered. "I think so, but I'd recommend putting some distance between us and it to be safe. How exactly do you plan to get everyone out of here?" She asked, gesturing to the unconscious figures strewn around.

"Gotham PD is on their way for evac." A cold, angry voice said from above.

Both Titans flinched, looking up into Batman's hard gaze. He swooped down, landing next to them heavily.

"Now you show up? _Now?!_ " The Joker's voice was high and incredulous.

Batman ignored him, taking the time to stare hard at both of them in turn. Anger was rolling off him in waves, enough to make Raven feel vaguely nauseous. For his part, Robin was radiating smug contentment and didn't flinch in meeting the white eyes of his father's cowl.

* * *

True to the Bat's word, PD wasn't long in coming and taking control of the situation. The ride home was shaping up to be a tense one, and Raven was reminded how emotionally exhausting it was for her to be with this esteemed duo. She sat quietly in the snug backseat of the Batmobile while it's owner chastised them both in icy tones.

"Completely reckless to charge in like that. You should have called for backup the moment you found him," the Dark Knight was saying.

Raven could sense Robin rolling his eyes, "There wasn't time to do anything before Joker started shooting. Besides, as you saw, we can handle ourselves," the pride in his voice was unmistakable.

"You were drastically outnumbered. What if one of them had gotten off a lucky shot? You put yourself and your teammate in unnecessary danger."

Raven had to interject, "Danger comes with the job. And you shouldn't be angry at Robin...this whole thing was my idea," she admitted.

"Patrol was her idea, going after the Joker was mine," Robin amended, "Are you going to ground us for taking down that psychopath for you? A 'thanks' might be more appropriate."

Batman was momentarily silent, "What was your lead? How did you find him?" he finally asked.

The Boy Wonder turned to face his father with a smirk, "The muscle, Casazza. Quit his job without notice the day after Joker escaped from Arkham. Since then, subway security cameras have observed him commuting here almost daily. It was a solid hunch."

"You could have shared this information," the Bat admonished.

Robin shrugged, "If I had gone out with you last night, I would have."

To Raven's surprise, the Dark Knight snorted in amusement. "Touche," there was another pause, "Good job, both of you. But this better not happen again."

* * *

It was past midnight when they arrived back at Wayne Manor, but none of the heroes were ready for sleep. Batman retired to his cave to document the night's incidents, while the two Titans loitered in the kitchen and picked at some leftovers Alfred set out for them.

Damian was in uncharacteristically good spirits, his aura bright and satisfied from the successful collar and his father's measured praise. "So, what exactly did you see in his head?"

"I didn't really _see_ anything," she corrected, "I just _felt_ it, and I really don't recommend the experience. It was pure mania."

"No surprises there. Do you have any idea how he was able to sense you?"

"No," she admitted irritably, "It shouldn't have been possible," she insisted for the second time.

"I could feel you when you were healing me," he countered.

"That was different. I had to channel much more of my magic into you, and we were in physical contact. It was a lot more, ah, intimate." She finished with a blush.

He was smirking at her, but the look in his eyes was soft. "Joker was right about one thing," he said, changing the subject for her.

"Hm?"

"The 'striking terror' thing. Your aesthetic fits Gotham better than Jump. I wouldn't say you're unoriginal though - as far as I'm aware my father can't grow an extra set of eyes."

She laughed then, "Well, we don't all got it." Looking around furtively, she moved closer to Damian and laid her hands on his shoulders, he gripped her waist in return. "For the record," she smiled, "You _do_ know how to show a lady a good time."

* * *

Damian awoke early on Christmas Eve and made his way to the kitchen, eschewing his normal workout routine given the previous night's escapades. Alfred was up already, preparing a tray to take down to the Batcave and greeted the boy formally as he took a seat at the tall counter.

"I have a message for you this morning, Master Damian. It seems you and Miss Roth have received a last minute invitation to the Vanaver's Christmas Eve party."

Damian looked up from the orange he was peeling and scowled, "Not interested." Vanavers and Vreelands were fast friends, and he knew exactly where this "last minute invitation" had come from.

"Are you quite sure? It promises to be a glamorous affair," the butler pressed. "Your father is unable to attend, and it would be seemly to have a Wayne present."

"We ran into Ronnie Vreeland yesterday. She wants us there so her society friends can mock Raven."

The butler appeared momentarily affronted. "Most ungracious of her...Still, you would do well to see if Miss Roth would like to attend before making the decision for her. I'm certain she is more than a match for Miss Vreeland's sniping." Alfred remarked, before leaving with his tray.

Minutes passed while Damian picked at his orange contemplatively. Pennyworth was right and Raven _had_ proven she could hold her own against catty socialites. Still, he couldn't imagine having much fun in a room full of them. His phone buzzed with an incoming text, pulling his thoughts away from the dilemma.

Dick had sent him a screenshot from some stupid Gotham celebrity blog, with a picture of he and Raven holding hands outside the cafe while she smiled at him prettily. _**"Aren't you two just adorable?"**_ came the followup message. Damian rolled his eyes, opting to ignore him. His phone buzzed again, _**"Kori says you better get her something nice for Christmas."**_

"Why am I not surprised he follows celebrity blogs?" Raven said from over his shoulder. He glanced back in surprise before offering a slight shrug.

"Now we know where he gets his love of gossip," he grumbled back.

Raven hopped onto the stool next to him and nicked an orange slice from his plate. "I bumped into Alfred in the hall - what's this about a party?"

 _Thanks, Pennyworth._ Damian thought irritably, "A bunch of rich snobs getting together to stroke each other's egos. Pass."

She studied him for a moment. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the pair we met yesterday?" She mused, taking another orange slice.

He gave a curt nod, grateful that she saw through it and confident she wouldn't want to -

"I say we should go," she announced.

 _What?_ Damian shot her an incredulous look, "We absolutely should not."

"Why not? Are you embarrassed of me?"

"Don't even, you know what the problem is."

She rolled her eyes and indicated his phone on the counter. "Cat's already out of the bag, if we don't go it sure _looks_ like you're embarrassed."

"How many times do I have to tell you that I don't care what they think?" He argued.

"Maybe I just want to watch your redheaded friend squirm again," she smirked, a familiar mischievous glint in her eyes.

He gave her a bemused glance, "That's a terrible reason," he paused, "Do you _actually_ want to go? Imagine an entire room full of people like the two from yesterday."

She shrugged, "We just went toe-to-toe with the Joker last night, why should that worry me," she trailed off in thought, "I think I have a nice enough dress, I'll have to transport back to the Tower for it later."

"I can't talk you out of this, can I?"

She leaned over to plant a chaste, orange-flavored kiss on his lips, "Nope."

* * *

"It's not too late to back out now," Damian offered, helping Raven out of the passenger seat.

"Why, you nervous?" She shot back. He was proud of her show of bravado, but could feel the slight tremble in her grip and see the uncertain edge to her smile.

"Will you let us go back to the manor if I am?"

"A quick appearance here won't kill us," she said firmly, "How do I look, everything in place?"

He knew she was specifically referring to her red gem, which they'd cleverly disguised with a slender silver tiara around her brow, but took the moment to give her entire figure a quick scan. Raven wore a clinging one-shouldered dress in dark blue, her right leg partially revealed by a high slit. She wore no jewelry, the ensemble completed only with short silver heels and her tiara. In conjunction with her coloring and fine features, she looked positively mystical and Damian had to take a moment to congratulate himself on his own excellent taste.

"Everything in place," he confirmed, holding out his arm, "Let's get this over with."

To his immense relief, there was no fanfare to their entrance and he and Raven began to mingle with some of the other guests without incident. After a spate of time and several thankfully brief and pleasant conversations, they settled against a quiet patch of wall away from the throngs.

"I have to say, I was expecting a little more excitement. Rich people parties are boring." She complained, taking a sip of sparkling water from her flute. "I don't suppose we can find another Rogue to bust tonight?"

"Told you so," he replied, trying to keep the gloating tone out of his voice.

"I didn't want anyone to think I was afraid to show up," she admitted, and something in her tone made Damian frown.

"Ra...chel," he caught himself, "Why do you care so much? You have nothing to prove to these people."

She sighed, dropping her voice to prevent them from being overheard, "Raven and Robin might make some sense together, but Rachel and Damian are an odd pair. I can't stop people from drawing their own conclusions about why I'm with you, but I don't want them to think it has any power over me," she finished despondently, eyes on the ground.

"I don't know how to make you feel better." Damian confessed after an uncomfortable silence, running his hand lightly against her bare arm.

"I'm just being dramatic," she scoffed, raising her eyes, "I can't tell you how relieved I'll be when we're back home. No tabloids, social hierarchies, boring parties."

"It is rather dull, isn't it?" A voice drawled from Raven's other side.

Pierce Chapman stood to her right, cheeks rosy from drink and toying idly with an empty highball glass.

Raven flushed, "Pierce, was it?" she asked politely, "We didn't see you there - I'm sorry for any offense. I'm just not used to this kind of thing."

"No offense given or taken," he dismissed her, "The Vanavers are to blame for failing to entertain - hor'dourves and an open bar can only provide so much to occupy oneself with."

He laid his glass on an empty table nearby before moving closer to the pair. "You look stunning tonight, Rachel. Ronnie was so sure you wouldn't be able to make it," he explained, grabbing her hand and planting a long kiss on it.

"Th-thank you," she replied, trying to pull her hand away lightly with no success.

"Was there something you wanted?" Damian growled, not liking the drunken glaze in the other boy's eye or the way he was _still_ holding on to Raven.

"No need for that, Wayne," he slurred, finally releasing her hand, "I actually came over to speak with you privately and clear the air. Our behavior yesterday was unacceptable and I hope we didn't make your friend too uncomfortable."

Damian's eyes narrowed slightly, noting the lackluster apology was addressed to him and not the person they'd actually offended. Before he could voice his objection, Pierce continued.

"Rachel, I don't suppose you'd give us a moment? I promise not to keep him from you for long," he said, smiling blankly at her.

Raven looked at Damian with a shrug and held up her empty flute, "Of course, I'll just go get myself another," she replied lightly, turning away with one last glance at her teammate.

Both boys watched her retreating form for a moment before, Damian turned back to his unwelcome guest, "Well?"

"Direct as ever, Wayne. I'll get right to the point - I am sorry for how we dealt with our...surprise at running into you and Rachel yesterday. I've since explained to Ronnie that it's normal for men of our wealth and upbringing to sow some oats before settling down with someone more appropriate to our station," Pierce explained, gesturing across the large room to where Raven was.

"Is that so?" Damian replied lowly.

"Indeed," he went on heedlessly, not registering the threatening tone or the glare fixed on him, "My father's term for it is 'gutter-trolling.' I'm not sure if it's something Bruce has discussed with you yet, but by-the-by, you're really not supposed to bring them to events like this."

He finally caught Damian's eye again and took an instinctive step back at the fury reflected in his green irises.

"I didn't…" he trailed, looking uncannily like a deer in headlights.

"You have exactly three seconds to get the fuck out my sight." Damian's voice was hard and full of violent promise.

The other boy whirled instantly to leave, nearly losing his footing in the process. Before he could get any further, a loud female shriek emanated from a dense knot of people at the other side of the room.

Damian realized he was unable to spot Raven, and shouldered roughly past the unfortunate boy to find her. He made his way through a thick group of party-goers loitering near the drinks table, and did not fail to note snickers and camera flashes as he got closer. Fighting down a pang of alarm, he finally broke through and any concern was instantly replaced by confusion.

Ronnie Vreeland was yelling shrilly and standing next to an ornate fountain, blood covering both arms up to the elbow and splattered all across the front of her white dress. Her posture was strange, one leg shorter than the other which gave off a vaguely hump-backed appearance. Damian spotted Raven a short distance a way, a look of perfect innocence on her pretty face.

He noted the dark red punch burbling from the fountain and everything clicked into place at once. He swallowed a laugh, making his way over to Raven and wrapping an arm around her waist with no regard for the many onlookers who took note.

Raven looked up at him, innocence and feigned concern still shining in her purple eyes. "It was the strangest thing - her right heel snapped just as she was going for some punch. She nearly went in headfirst."

Damian didn't bother to hide his smile, "Is this enough excitement for you?"

"Plenty," she nodded, "let's get out of here."

* * *

Raven wasn't entirely ready to head back to the manor, so she was grateful when Damian suggested detouring to a scenic overlook to kill some time. It was about fifteen minutes to midnight, and both of them resolved to stay out until it was officially Christmas.

They reclined in their seats and she filled him in on some of the details leading up to Ronnie Vreeland's unfortunate plunge, wherein the very tipsy redhead had brashly (and _loudly_ ) informed her that she was a nothing more than a cheap toy, and encouraged her to enjoy her leeching while she could. Of course, she explained to Damian, she would _never_ be so petty as to magically snap someone's perfect, six-inch designer heel over something like that.

Damian had tensed slightly when she repeated the insults, and she was reminded of the rage she had sensed from him in the seconds leading up to the fountain incident. She pieced it together momentarily.

"Hey," she reached over to poke him in the ribs, "It doesn't matter what he said to you, remember? You don't care what anyone thinks," she reminded him lightly.

He caught her hand and pulled on it, eyes meeting hers in an unspoken question. She understood quickly, and with a flutter of nerves slid over the center console to lie against him in the driver's seat.

Her back was against his chest, and he curled his left arm tightly around her stomach and pressed her against him. His other hand found the high slit in her dress and rested directly on her bare right thigh. She closed her eyes and relished in his warmth and the sound of his breathing.

"Are you going to tell me what he said?" She ventured.

She felt him shake his head and his right hand seemed to grip her thigh more tightly.

"It doesn't matter."

"No, it doesn't," she agreed, turning her head to plant a soft kiss on his cheek as they slipped into a comfortable silence. Raven relished the contentedness she felt radiating off of Damian and the sensation of them pressed together before the peace was broken by a loud buzz.

Shifting them slightly, Damian worked his phone out of the pocket and she was unsurprised to see another message from Dick. It was a photo of the punch-splattered Ronnie, which some unsympathetic soul had apparently posted to Twitter. _**"Which one of you Carrie'd Vreeland?"**_

Raven snorted lightly, sensing Damian's amusement as well. "Both he and Kori are going to be insufferable about this, you know," she warned, already dreading the fawning and jibes they were sure to hear when everyone returned to the Tower.

"I thought I was the insufferable one?" She could hear the smile in his voice.

She pinched his arm lightly. "Don't get any ideas, you still are."

"Only a little," he admitted. "I'm not worried about what they'll say. I knew what to expect when I invited you here."

"So this was your master plan all along?" she asked, gesturing to their current position.

"You're the one who jumped me in an alley, remember? I was anticipating a far more uneventful trip." The memory and feeling of his hand moving back to her bare thigh brought a heavy blush to Raven's face.

"Can you blame me? I would have died an old maid waiting on you to make the first move," she mumbled, trying to recover some composure.

Damian bit her neck then and any remaining poise vanished. _Azar_ , she thought desperately, distantly frustrated at how slavish she suddenly felt. She could feel his heart pounding against her back and his hot mouth on her skin and his hand which slowly, torturously started to slide higher on her bare leg. On another plane, she was aware of the mewling sounds he was drawing from her and might have been mortified if there was room for any sensation other than lust.

As suddenly as he started, Damian pulled away and released her from his grip. He was breathing hard and swallowed audibly before speaking.

"I think you should get back in your own seat."

Raven nodded, not trusting herself to talk as she willed her pulse to return to normal. She slid back over to the passenger side and swallowed the disappointment she felt. Any further and she was confident neither of them would have been able to stop, and this was hardly the setting to take things to the next level.

As they finally started to come back to themselves, Raven glanced at the clock to see it was ten past midnight. "Merry Christmas," she offered, relieved for something normal to break the silence.

"Merry Christmas," he echoed. She caught his eyes then, and was completely unprepared for what she saw in them. Warmth, tenderness, affection, and a whole host of other emotions completely antithetical to what she knew about Damian. Even if he couldn't say it aloud quite yet, she felt it to her core and knew exactly what he was trying to convey. She couldn't help her smile, nor her hand reaching across to intertwine with his.

"You too."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Super short fic from Nightwing's perspective that takes place during Judas Contract, after the scene where Robin and Raven confront him about Terra.

" _Making decisions with your heart will get people killed."_

Damian's last words were still with him, and Dick's mood was sour as a result. His thoughts oscillated between frustration and doubt, and he wondered for the hundredth time whether Bruce's paranoia had a genetic factor. None of the other Bat-family seemed to suffer from distrust quite as severely as the father-son duo.

 _He griped about Raven when he first got here, and everything ended up fine there. You'd think he'd have learned to be more open-minded_ …. _Okay, so the world almost ended and everyone spent some time in Hell…._ He sighed and stood, deciding to seek out Damian to further plead his case for Terra. Partly to try and get through to the stubborn brat, and partly to reassure himself that he was doing the right thing. Kori sensed his purpose and nodded at him as he left the room.

It was late, and the Tower was dark and empty. He tried to organize his thoughts as he made his way towards Damian's room. _Can't exactly win this by appealing to his sense of compassion, best bet is to convince him there's no threat...ugh, why did Raven have to tell him anything? Maybe I should just have her talk to Damian._ He did seem to heed her more than other members of the team. Kori had mentioned some kind of empathic bond being established, so the idea had merit. He rounded a corner and saw both teens in question standing at the end of the hall, deep in conversation.

Neither had noticed him and he was about to call out, but something in their body language and low hushed tones stopped him. Damian's arms were crossed and his eyes were locked on the floor between them. Raven stood in front of him, oddly close, and was saying something in a quiet voice. Whatever it was didn't seem to please him, and Dick watched as Damian shook his head angrily, keeping his gaze down.

He blinked in surprise when Raven lifted a small hand to lay on the Boy Wonder's arm, and his jaw fell open completely when Damian sighed visibly and leaned forward to rest his forehead on the empath's shoulder. Part of him knew he was intruding on something very private between the two and he should hightail it before they spotted him, but he was transfixed by such an emotional display from the team's resident stoics. _How long has this been going on?!_

Clearly a while, given how comfortable the two seemed. Damian was still resting his head on Raven's shoulder, but her hand on his arm had migrated north to run through his hair in a repeating, soothing motion. Her other hand was clasped in Robin's gloved one.

Finally shaking off the shock, Dick beat a hasty retreat back around the corner before either of them could take notice of him. His surprise was slowly being replaced by amusement, _I can't wait to tell Bruce and Alfred! I wish I could have gotten a picture_. He wondered if Kori knew.

He found her still in the control room, concern etched into her expression as she scrolled distractedly through the information displayed on the monitor. She looked up at his entrance.

"That was fast...I'm guessing it didn't go well," she said, disappointment permeating her tone.

"Went fine, actually. Raven's cheering him up."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's a story featuring some of the other Robins to keep things fresh, and explore some of the other personalities/dynamics a bit. This is what I came up with and I hope you like despite it not being a straightforward DamiXRae. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tim lounged against the back wall of Wayne Manor's parlor room, smiling at the scene before him. The denizens of the Bat family were milling around, and the mood in the room was infectiously positive. Of course, the star of the show was the newest addition to the family; Mar'i Grayson. Raven and Kori were fawning over the infant in question while Jason Todd teased the proud new father. Bruce was smiling lightly at his oldest adopted son, which for him was practically beaming.

All of the family had returned home to celebrate the new arrival, with one notable exception. No one knew where exactly Damian was, not even his longtime girlfriend. Raven had been away working with Constantine and Zatanna over the last several months, and Tim could tell how disappointed the twenty-two year old was not to find her other half at the manor when she arrived. The last contact they had from their little brother ended with a characteristically terse request to stop bothering him and a promise he'd be there when he could.

Champagne had been flowing since the late afternoon and Jason had recently begun to slur. Kori shot Dick an amused look at his brother's antics before shifting her new daughter against her shoulder and announcing it was time for them to call it a night.

"It's not even nine o'clock!" Jason protested.

"She's three days old," the Tamaranean retorted with a beleaguered smile, "and Dick and I haven't exactly been getting a full night's sleep lately."

"Sorry we can't party til midnight with you, Jason," Dick added dryly.

"Hm, yeah you _are_ sorry. Go on then," he replied dismissively, the smile on his face contradicting the haughty tone in his voice.

Kori bid goodnight to Raven with a quick, one-armed hug and thanked her for coming. The empath responded with a soft, genuine smile for her former teammate. Bruce announced he would be retiring as well, citing a sleepless night of patrol the previous evening. This left the two former Robins alone with Raven, and the jovial mood began to mellow out. Tim pushed himself off the wall.

"Think I'll hit the sack too," he announced with a yawn.

"No you don't, Drake. This is the first time in years we've had all the Robins in one place and I mean to make memories," Jason responded with a smirk.

Tim noticed Raven stiffen slightly, the movement imperceptible were it not for his detective skills. He gave Jason a pointed look, darting his eyes towards her meaningfully. The look on Jason's face became apologetic.

"Ah….sorry, Raven. We're just used to not having Damian around…"

Her lips quirked up knowingly, but the look in her eyes seemed sad. "Don't worry about it," she replied in a light voice. "I think I'll get out of here though, Constantine needs me back soon."

"Nah. Stay the night, Rae. We're way more fun than Damian anyways," Jason needled with a smile, "Maybe I can convince you to upgrade from bat boy and shack up with the best Robin," he finished with a flirtatious smirk, eyeing her appreciatively.

Raven and Tim both rolled their eyes at his over the top tone and expression.

"I'm pretty sure Dick's off the market now," she ribbed back, and Jason looked momentarily affronted.

"Beautiful _and_ clever. Just why _have_ you settled for my bratty little brother?" he mused, and Tim started to feel a sense of warning.

He was relatively sure Jason was just teasing, but there was enough competitiveness and bad blood between him and Damian that he could imagine the older man pursuing Raven just to get under the youngest Wayne's skin. _God knows Damian has a possessive streak a mile wide._

"That's enough, Todd," he said in his best authoritative voice, "We all know Raven wouldn't touch you with a sock full of pennies." He turned to the empath, "You should stay the night though, there's plenty of room," he reassured.

She glanced between the two heroes amusedly before giving a light shrug and sigh, "I suppose it's rude to refuse such generous hospitality."

"Exactly right," Jason responded with a tone of finality and another flirtatious smile, "and I know just the thing to get the mood up again. Who's down for a drinking game?"

"I don't think that's the best idea," Tim replied.

"Of course you don't, you know I can drink you under the table."

"That's not-"

"Remember your twenty-first birthday?"

"That was six ye-"

"Tim's a total lightweight," Jason informed Raven, ignoring him.

"You're on, Todd."

* * *

Two hours and an obscene amount of alcohol later, Tim was feeling both drunk and victorious. Jason was passed out on the couch while he listened to Raven chat animatedly about some bizarre magical artifact she'd found in a thrift shop once. He never knew she was capable of talking so much.

To his surprise, she'd joined in their game and managed to hold her own quite well. Tim supposed her demonic heritage counteracted her tiny frame when it came to alcohol tolerance. He noticed her reaching for another bottle of wine mid-sentence and snatched it away.

"I think you've probably had enough," he insisted.

She shot him a dark look before the bottle was encased in black energy and flew into her waiting hands.

"I think I'm allowed to drink as much as I want," she growled and Tim was momentarily taken aback by her ferocity.

"Sorry."

She dismissed him with a handwave before pouring herself a large glass of the deep red liquid. Even through his drunken haze, he could see the sad look in her eyes.

"I'm sorry that Damian isn't here," he voiced, not knowing why he said it.

She sighed, taking a long drink. "It's not your fault. I'll see him when I see him."

Tim dropped the subject, feeling uncomfortable with how dejected and vulnerable she looked. He made a note to break something next time he and Damian sparred and gestured to the still mostly full bottle of wine.

"Mind sharing?"

She smiled and obliged.

* * *

Raven stumbled down the darkened hall, leaning heavily on Tim as he led the way to her guest room. That last bottle had _not_ been a good idea for either of them, and his mind was buzzing from the excess.

He propped her against the wall to maneuver the double doors open, and she gazed distantly out a tall window at the end of the hall where a bright crescent moon hung in the sky.

"Think you've got it from here?" he asked, glancing over at her. She turned her head back to meet his gaze and Tim felt a shock to his system. It wasn't the way the moonlight made her pale skin glow, or how it made her dark hair shine like silk - it was the pure desire reflected in her purple irises.

Tim took an instinctive step back, at a loss for words. _She's drunk, remember how drunk she is, Drake._

She didn't look it in that moment, the glazed sheen she'd been carrying in her eyes over the last several hours was completely gone as she took a small step forward and laid her hands on his shoulders.

She really was beautiful - had he known that before? _Of course not!_ The distant, still sober part of his mind screamed. _Of course you didn't know because you CAN'T know because she's off-limits because this is your brother's girlfriend!_ The voice was shrill and rambling, but it was just enough for Tim to momentarily come to his senses and push her firmly back by her shoulders.

"No...don't shut me out," she whispered, her voice heartbroken. "Please."

She stepped towards him again, pressing their chests together and wrapping her arms around his neck. Tim's superior intellect seemed completely helpless against this new threat, and through his drunken fog he recalled the clear look in her eyes and wondered just how far gone she really was. _Maybe...does she really? Why...but...we barely even know…_

That train of thought crashed in an instant when the mage leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his. Tim went completely still, his mind alternately screaming to shove her away and pull her in closer.

Then Raven's tongue prodded against his lips and he was lost. He grabbed her waist and pulled her flush against him as he took the lead in their kiss. She angled her head as their tongues battled for dominance, moaning lightly when he dug his fingers into her hips. She pulled away from his lips and bit his neck, her sharp teeth sending a perfect mix of pain and pleasure through him.

Not wanting to take things further in the hallway, he lifted her by her slender waist to walk her into the guest bedroom and she obligingly wrapped her long legs around his waist. She was as light as a feather to him and he took a moment to distantly remember the power hidden by her soft, petite curves.

Barely conscious of his actions anymore, he pressed her against the mattress as she slid her hands through his long hair. His hands had found the hem of her short dress and he was exploring the swell of her hips beneath it, fingertips brushing the lacy edges of her underwear. He was kissing her again, growing addicted to her sweet taste and the slide of her tongue against his.

Her hands had found their way under his shirt and he couldn't help but arch against her when she raked him with her nails. The delicious feel of their hips pressed together overwhelmed him and he absently wondered how one person could be so pleasing to every single sense.

He buried his face in her neck, inhaling her vanilla scent as his hands continued to roam, deciding he needed more skin on skin contact before he went mad.

"I've missed you," she sighed.

He barely heard her, having finally found the zipper on the side of her dress.

"I love you."

A distant alarm started sounding in his mind, but it was too far away to care about.

_"Damian."_

Tim's eyes shot open and he looked at the woman pressed beneath him with mounting horror. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed from drink. She appeared to have finally passed out.

 _She thought this entire time…_ Tim felt sick to his stomach, knowing it had nothing to do with his drunkenness. _Oh god, I'm so fucking stupid. Of course she thought I was him. Drake, you idiotic piece of shit, you wouldn't have stopped._

He berated himself mercilessly as he moved off of her, feeling lower than he ever could have imagined. He had assaulted a drunk woman, his _brother's_ woman. What kind of degenerate does that?! Another thought interrupted his tirade with matter-of-fact clarity.

_Damian is going to MURDER me for this._

Tim grabbed at his head, forcing himself to calm down and breathe deeply. _To think I was worried about Jason putting the moves on her._ He shook his head, finally recapturing some semblance of composure before moving over to Raven's prone form and smoothing out her dress, rezipping where he'd started to pull it down. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to look her in the eyes again and was praying fervently she would remember nothing tomorrow.

Throwing a blanket over the unconscious witch, Tim hurried from the room to his own quarters. An icy shower chased away the last of his inebriation as his thoughts continued to spiral miserably. _So much for the responsible, in-control, dependable Robin_. All it had taken was a fiery look in her eyes and a soft kiss for him to completely abandon his morals.

He stepped out of the shower and glanced at his reflection. To his dismay, Raven had left a vivid lovebite on his neck. Turning slightly, he also caught sight of long red scratches on his back where she had raked him. He thought back in time and realized he'd seen similar brands on Damian when they'd change after sparring. _She seems to enjoy leaving marks_ , he noted with a thrill and jealousy suddenly ignited every nerve in his body.

_NO. We are NOT going there! Pull yourself together, Drake. Raven is in love with Damian, you have no shot and you shouldn't want one._

He did want one, he admitted bitterly to himself. Before tonight he would have never seen her in that light, but now the taste, smell, and feel of her were burned into his memory. He smacked himself in the forehead, willing away unwelcome thoughts and groaning audibly.

* * *

Tim didn't sleep a wink, but refused to come out of his room when day broke. He didn't think he could bear to see Raven again out of shame and guilt. He played his seclusion off as a hangover for hours until he was reasonably confident she had left.

Late afternoon found him creeping furtively into the kitchen, where Jason and Dick were chatting casually and Kori rocked Mar'i in her arms.

"He lives," Jason announced with a smirk, catching sight of Tim.

"Heh, yeah," he said weakly, avoiding everyone's eyes and making his way to the fridge.

"You must have had a hell of a hangover," Dick said, "If it makes you feel any better, Jason was a wreck this morning." The man in question responded to the gibe by flicking a grape towards him.

"Raven, on the other hand, was up early, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. How does it feel to know a twenty-two year old can outdrink you?"

"Hardly counts," Jason drawled, flicking another grape, "Half-demon powers."

"So, she seemed fine?" Tim asked tightly, having stiffened the moment her name was mentioned.

"Not even a headache," Dick confirmed.

Tim wanted to ask if she'd said anything strange or seemed too quiet, but that would open him up to a bunch of questions he absolutely could not answer. He scrabbled at an orange he'd pulled from the fridge, needing to keep his hands occupied to avoid fidgeting.

"Poor girl," Jason mused, "ghosted by Damian and then has to stay up late talking to Tim."

Appetite killed, Tim abandoned his half-peeled orange on the counter and left the room hastily. He felt sick to his stomach again and internally begged to a higher power that this whole thing would somehow just blow over. Retiring to his room, he collapsed on his bed and finally fell into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Over 12 hours passed before he awoke again in the early morning, finally feeling a bit more centered and calm. He rose and stretched, stomach gurgling loudly to remind him how exceedingly long he'd gone without eating.

He heard snippets of conversation as he approached the kitchen, and was unsurprised that the others were up. Batman made a point to raise early-risers, after all. He pushed through the swinging door and was greeted by not two brothers, but all three. Damian sat at the tall counter, looking customarily annoyed as Jason regaled him with all he had missed. _He must have gotten in last night_.

"There you are, Drake! Help me out here, I was just telling Damian how sad poor Raven was when he couldn't be bothered to show up the other day," Jason said with a mocking smile.

Tim said nothing, focused on avoiding his younger brother's eyes as he pulled a box of granola bars from the cupboard. _My luck lately has been fan-fucking-tastic_ , he thought bitterly.

"Anyways," Jason continued, "Don't worry, Dami. I kept her warm for you," he finished with a suggestive wink.

"You're disgusting, Todd," the Wayne heir responded coldly, "Don't talk about Raven to me and focus on getting someone more in your league. Maybe a crackwhore."

"I'll agree with Damian on the first part," Dick added, "don't talk about her like a piece of meat."

Jason rolled his eyes at them both, "Aren't we all just pieces of meat?" he pondered. "Anyways, it is a shame you missed Mar'i's homecoming party. Care to tell us where you were?"

"No," Damian replied, picking at the plate of food in front of him.

Tim busied himself with his own breakfast, noting in the back of his mind that his younger brother was even more ill-tempered than usual. _If he gets this pissy when someone even jokes about Raven, what do you think will happen when he finds out what you did, Drake?_

Distracted, he ripped open the packaging on his granola bar a little too forcefully and the food skittered across the counter to land on the floor.

"What's with you?" Dick asked him concernedly, "You've been a nervous wreck since yesterday."

"Nothing," he replied quickly. Too quickly, judging by the three pairs of eyes that were now regarding him. Dick frowned, glancing over his younger brother skeptically before his eyes suddenly widened in alarm.

His arm shot out, bunching in the material of Tim's shirt which he used to force the younger man back through the kitchen door.

"Let's you and I have a quick chat," he said sharply, ignoring the surprised, curious stares behind him.

Tim tried to protest feebly as he was hauled back towards his room, wondering what could have given him away as panic welled within him. When they reached their destination, Dick slammed him against the bedroom wall with fury radiating in his ice blue eyes.

"What. The fuck. Is that." He demanded, flicking the side of Tim's neck painfully.

 _Oh fuck_. He'd completely forgotten about the hickey - it was a small miracle only Dick had noticed.

"It's, um…" _What the fuck am I supposed to say? I burned myself with a curling iron?_ "It's nothing, just a bruise," he offered lamely.

The look in the other man's eyes grew somehow angrier, "What the fuck did you do, Tim? There has been exactly one woman here in the last few days who could have done that, and you cannot _possibly_ be that stupid. What. Happened." he finished with a growl.

Tim had paled considerably, knowing there was no way out of this but the truth. He swallowed heavily, "It was a mistake," he said weakly, "We were both drunk and, uh, she thought I was Damian. I didn't realize at first, I swear."

Dick was looking at him dumbfounded. He closed his eyes and exhaled, "Let me get this straight...Raven was drunk and mistook you for Damian, so she came onto you. Then, because you are a supreme fuck-up, you proceeded to fuck our brother's girlfriend. Am I understanding you correctly?"

"What?! N-no, it didn't go that far, I swear!" Even with that incorrect detail, hearing his misdeeds repeated back to him left him feeling ill all over again, "I fucked up, I know - but once I realized what was happening, I stopped. And I've been feeling horrible ever since, I never wanted to hurt Raven or Damian. I...don't think she remembers, God, I hope she doesn't," he rambled.

Dick was staring at him wordlessly. After a silent beat, he finally released his hold on Tim's shirt and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Very fortunately for you, I don't think she does. There was nothing off about her yesterday morning," he groaned heavily, "Do you have any idea what Damian will do to you if he finds out?"

 _Kill me...slowly_. Tim didn't voice the thought, "What am I supposed to do?" he asked shakily.

"You're asking me? You dug your own hole here, hell, you're lucky that _I'm_ not kicking your ass right now," he sighed. "Just get back to Bludhaven. If you stay here it's going to come out eventually - you don't exactly have a good poker face."

Tim nodded miserably, sliding around his brother to start packing.

"Oh, and Tim?"

He turned just in time for Dick's right fist to catch him full in the chin, and staggered back into his dresser with his ears ringing. _I deserved that_.

"You are never to be alone with Raven again."

Tim nodded again, swallowing a mouthful of blood.

* * *

Being a light packer, he was ready to leave in record time. He snuck down to the Batcave to bid Bruce and Alfred goodbye, and was almost home-free when they caught him saddling his bike in the garage.

Jason laughed when he saw the dark bruise on his chin, but Damian just narrowed his green eyes suspiciously. Tim nervously yanked up the collar of his motorcycle jacket.

"What's your hurry?" his younger brother asked pointedly.

Tim struggled for an emotion to cover his fried nerves and decided on anger, "None of your business, actually," he snapped. If anyone could respect that sentiment it would be Damian…right?

Instead, he could tell the younger man's curiosity was now well and truly piqued. The same went for Jason, who was eyeing him with a smirk.

"The ever composed, pleasant Tim Drake seems awful touchy for some reason," he stated.

"This really isn't the time, guys," he said, barely managing to keep the pleading tone from creeping into his voice.

Damian edged forward slightly, and Tim took a startled step back before he could help himself. Some of his frantic emotions must have shown in his expression because Jason let out another bark of laughter.

"Since when are you so scared of the baby bird, Drake?"

Damian spared him an unsatisfied glance before turning back to Tim, "What did you do?"

He felt his throat go dry, but managed a semi-forceful answer, "Told you - none of your business."

He pulled his helmet on then, relieved to hide his face from their stares. Even so, they showed no intention of leaving him alone. Jason started to flank him slightly as Damian took another step forward, and Tim felt his panic rise. Having spent so much time with his brothers, he knew when he was about to get dogpiled. Clearly, and perhaps unsurprisingly, they had no compunction about beating the information out of him. He'd never been the most martial Robin, relying far more on superior detective skills, and there was no chance he'd be able to take them both.

"Break it up, you three," Dick drawled from the garage door, cradling his sleeping daughter. "Just got Mar'i down for a nap and I'm not about to have you wake her up over some stupid fight."

"Then tell us what's going on," Jason retorted.

"Maybe later," he said noncommittally. Tim envied his eldest brother's acting ability with everything he had. _Something to work on when I get to Bludhaven_ , he thought glumly.

"Tim, make sure you walk your bike to the end of the drive. I don't want your crotch-rocket waking the baby up either," Dick said with a smug look.

Tim sighed, clearly he was not done being punished. He kicked up the stand on his bike and began marching it out of the garage and up the quarter mile driveway without protest. Damian's eyes were still locked on him as he walked passed, and he had to fight the urge to yank on his collar again.

* * *

The cool breeze helped to calm Tim as he raced along the winding freeway to Bludhaven. Getting away from the scene of the crime and Damian's prying green eyes was already doing wonders for his mood, and for the first time in almost 48 hours he was able to analyze the situation rationally.

_Even when I thought Raven knew who I was, I should have pushed her away without question. That fact alone makes me a terrible brother._

The fraternal bonds between the Robins were...unconventional, to say the least. But even when they couldn't stand to be in the same room, or when they came to blows over matters big and small, there was an undercurrent of loyalty to each other and to the Bat family as a whole. It was an undercurrent Tim no longer felt entitled to.

_I knew she was drunk, and tried to tell myself otherwise when I realized I wanted her. That fact alone makes me a creep._

It didn't matter that he was drunk as well - whose fault was that, after all? After this, Tim was convinced he'd never have another drop of the stuff.

_I still want her. Even with how fucked up this whole thing has become, I can't stop imagining how much further we could have gone. That fact alone makes me pathetic._

Dick's decree that he could never be alone with Raven again was a wise one, though Tim was confident the feelings would fade in time . He hardly knew the empath, and this couldn't be more than a physical infatuation. Physical distance would be the cure.

He hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little known fact, Tim's favorite song is "Jessie's Girl."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU. Taking kind of a darker turn with this one. Characters aged 18+ here and this'll be a solidly M rated chapter. Includes a lemon near the end.

The air was still thick with dust and smoke when the crowd began to press in on the Titans, cheering raggedly. Robin bit back a growl, wishing for once that the populace of Jump could be more like Gotham. The fanatical appreciation of the city just tended to make the team's job harder.

He stood back as the police spoke with Wonder Girl and began to take a handful of subdued criminals into custody. Weapons dealers had set up shop in an abandoned apartment building, taking hostages and threatening to set off a fertilizer bomb when the ATF attempted to close in. Not an especially challenging or interesting mission, which made Robin all the more angry at himself for somehow coming out of the skirmish with a broken right ankle. He stood on it gingerly, doing his best to hide both the injury and his annoyance from the increasing number of civilian spectators.

"They're not _that_ bad," Raven admonished, moving to stand alongside him.

Robin said nothing, but raised an eyebrow and nodded subtly towards a knot of teenage girls who had spent the last several minutes pleading and gesticulating to get his attention. Almost all were now glaring at the witch.

She favored him with a tiny half smile, "They're not _all_ that bad," she amended. "Usually you've skulked away by this point - what's the holdup?"

"I don't skulk," he replied indignantly. "My ankle is broken. Think you could help out?"

"I can call you a cab."

His lips quirked up slightly and he fought the urge to touch her. Their relationship was common knowledge to the team, but being openly affectionate in public was asking for trouble. He'd seen it bite Kori and Dick in the ass multiple times. Tabloids and supervillains were equally unscrupulous in such matters.

He nodded again to the cluster of teenage girls, "I bet one of them would give me a ride."

"Yeah, I'll _bet_ they would," she rolled her eyes. "Don't make me break your other ankle," she finished as her magic began to encase them.

A moment later they appeared in the Tower's medical bay, and Robin hobbled gracelessly towards one of the hospital beds. With Raven's help, he removed his right boot and they assessed the damage.

"Looks like you busted it in a couple different places," she chided, slender fingers running over his skin, "I'll get you healed, but you need to keep your weight off this foot for the rest of the day."

"We'll see," he replied noncommittally, removing his mask and ignoring the irritated look the empath shot towards him. Energy began to move from her hands into the damaged bone and tissue, and Damian nearly sighed in relief at the sudden cessation of pain. Reaching forward, he pulled down Raven's hood so he could watch her face as she worked. She might appear inexpressive to others, but he could read her like a book. His innuendo about the civilian fangirls had her a bit miffed.

"You have a staring problem," she muttered after a silent minute, cheeks reddening.

His only answer was a triumphant smirk. After all this time, it was still ridiculously easy to make her blush.

"All set," she announced, pulling away.

"Thank you," he replied, stare and smirk both still in place. She stubbornly avoided looking at him as he stood and tested his newly healed ankle. Some slight twinges, but nothing that would hold him back. His previously light mood began to recede as he realized what this private moment with Raven represented. Over the past few weeks a thought had been dancing in the back of his mind, a change that needed to be made, a conversation they needed to have.

She predictably sensed the shift in his emotions, her eyes now locked on his curiously.

"There's something important I need to tell you," he said steadily.

"You're thinking of leaving the Titans," she replied matter-of-factly, smiling slightly at his surprise. "You've been angstier than usual lately, and I can tell you don't enjoy patrols or missions the way you used to."

"Yes," he admitted, "We're not kids anymore, Raven. There's nothing left to learn here and a place like Jump City hardly needs five superheroes." It was true. Since Hive and the Church of Blood had been declawed, the city itself rarely faced anything more than middling criminal organizations and low-level metas.

"Is this because Kori chose Donna to lead instead of you?"

He scowled, irritated by the implication. She laid her hand on his arm apologetically, "It's a valid question, Damian."

"At the time, it….stung," he confessed with a low growl, "but I'm not such a child I would base my decision on that alone. Now I think it was for the best, leading the Titans just means I'd be stuck here longer."

"Will you go back to Gotham?"

"No, not right away," he swallowed lightly, gearing up for the next part, "I would follow Nightwing's example. Find our own city to protect until the day comes for me to take over as Batman. For now, we should find a new place and carve out a reputation."

" _We_ should?"

 _No turning back now._ "I want you to come with me. You've outgrown this place just as much as I have."

She was gazing absently to the side now, and her blush from earlier had reappeared. The silence stretched uncomfortably and Damian began to feel stress coiling in his chest. He reached out to lay a hand against her waist, needing some kind of physical reassurance before he spoke again.

"I assumed you would want to come with me," he said quietly.

"You know I do," she finally replied. "It's just...I don't know anything else but this. When I ran away from my father, I wasn't looking to be a superhero - I just wanted a home. A family…" she trailed.

"But you are a superhero - and too powerful to waste here forever. I'm not asking you to give them up, Raven. We'll always be Titans, but we can be more as well."

Damian knew this was hard for her, and though she'd never admit it, she was scared. But he also knew that he _needed_ to leave this place even if it meant being apart. He would come back for her someday.

She stepped forward and buried her face in his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

"I guess it's no different than what Kori did," she mumbled.

The Tamaranean had relocated to Bludhaven a few months prior to form a duo with Nightwing, and Damian knew Raven missed her "older sister" keenly.

"So you'll come?"

"You knew I would."

He snorted lightly. In truth he'd been terrified of her answer, and her clear unease had him worried she'd change her mind at any moment.

The sound of an elevator kicking on announced the team's return and Raven pushed away from him, the look on her face inscrutable.

"I think I'll go meditate," she said distantly. Damian nodded reluctantly, internally brainstorming how he could make her more comfortable with this.

They had both barely stepped outside the medical bay when their communicators went off.

" _ **All Titans report to the briefing room."**_

Damian grumbled in irritation, feeling a bit too turbulent and distracted to focus on whatever nothing-threat they needed to protect Jump City from now.

Donna Troy greeted them both as they entered the briefing room. Gar and Jaime were there already, the former throwing them a knowing look. Damian glared back, daring the changeling to make a stupid comment. Thankfully, Donna denied him the opportunity.

"I called you all up here because we've had word from Nightwing and Starfire in Bludhaven. Roland Desmond, better known as Blockbuster, has recruited a series of assassins to take them out and they're asking for backup."

"When do we leave?" Damian asked, pleasantly surprised at the prospect of a real challenge.

" _We_ don't - I'm going alone. The plan is to use my lasso to compel the assassins to give up their contracts and refuse all future business with Blockbuster. From there the three of us will be more than enough to deal with the situation. I'm trusting all of you to hold down the fort."

He tried to swallow his disappointment and resentment, wondering who's idea it was to choose Wonder Girl for this mission. While she wasn't a _bad_ choice with her Lasso of Persuasion, he had been to Bludhaven several times already and had far more dealings with assassins than the Amazonian.

Blue eyes met his and broke his reverie. "Robin, I want you to take command while I'm away. Keep the city safe," she finished with a confident, assuring smile. He nodded curtly in response.

Donna then swept from the room, announcing that she would be leaving immediately. Slipping into his interim leadership role, Robin addressed the remaining heroes to assign patrol shifts for the night. Raven and Beast Boy on the first watch, himself and Blue Beetle on the second. It was overkill to keep an eye on Jump throughout the entire night, but if there was one thing Damian could agree with his father on, it was a need for constant vigilance.

"You're pairing _me_ with Raven?" Gar mused, "How do you know you can trust me with your girlfr-" He was interrupted by the power of their twin glares.

"Grow up," Raven scoffed as she and Damian turned to leave.

* * *

The four remaining Titans retired to the kitchen for a quick bite before nightfall, when the first watch would begin and the second shifters would try to get some sleep before their own turn.

"I understand why you didn't put us on patrol together, but how come _you_ couldn't pair up with Beast Boy?" Raven asked irritably from across the counter.

"Beetle complements my skill set better," Damian answered. Everyone knew Robin and Raven worked best together, but he thought it wise to avoid showing any kind of bias or favoritism towards the empath while he was in charge.

"Very convenient for you," she grumbled. Their banter felt light and normal, but he could tell she was still conflicted beneath her composed exterior.

"I'm right here!" Gar whined, scowling at the both of them. "And for the record, if _I_ was in charge we'd be taking the night off."

"That's why you're not in charge," Jaime cut in as he rooted through the fridge, "With Donna gone, some bad guys might start to feel brave over the next couple days." Damian concurred with a nod.

The changeling opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Jaime plopping a large confectionary box on the table. "Donna left us a present."

It contained some kind of flaky pastry squares smothered in nuts, and had a sweet, appetizing smell. _**Enjoy!**_ was written on the lid in their teammate's familiar script.

"Baklava. Donna must have been craving home cooking." Raven stated disinterestedly, " All yours, I don't like walnuts."

"Sweet!" Gar exclaimed, digging in.

Damian watched him tear through three entire squares, "Baklava has butter in it," he informed him innocently.

The green hero froze, eyeing the remaining pastries with a look of abject betrayal.

"Maybe they used margarine for this one?" Raven offered delicately.

"Uh...well….three is enough anyways…" Gar finally said, the look on his face absurdly guilty.

"More for me!" Jaime celebrated, trying not to laugh at his vegan teammate.

Damian took the smallest square for himself, regretting it once he registered the overly processed sweetness common to storebought desserts. He left the rest to Jaime and stood up to head to bed. As subtly as he could, he trailed his hand affectionately across the small of Raven's back as he moved behind her.

* * *

Raven sighed, her ire rising. She and Beast Boy should have left for patrol fifteen minutes ago. _What the hell is he doing?_ Being alone with her thoughts was the last thing she wanted right now and she was almost looking _forward_ to the changeling's antics just to have a distraction.

What she and Damian had was serious, and striking out together to make their own life was a logical step. She did occasionally reprimand herself for becoming too complacent at the Tower, a thought that was frequently reinforced by her father. When he was loud enough to hear, a recurring theme was how pathetic she was, and the life of power and supremacy she gave up when she betrayed him. She hated acknowledging the grain of truth in his words - but she knew she was not living up to her potential.

Snapping out of her contemplations, she realized irritably another five minutes had passed. Out of patience, she boarded the elevator and hit the button that would take her to the Titan's residential floor. A sharp word and flare of magic would get Beast Boy moving.

The elevator door slid open as she reached her destination, and she strode out purposefully. As she rounded the corner she nearly crashed into someone far too tall, burly, and emotionally blank to be any of her teammates. Her eyes shot up in alarm and she barely avoided the fist aimed for her head.

Twisting back and wrapping her hands in energy, she shot a dark beam towards the intruder. He dodged it deftly and charged her wordlessly. His plain black mask seemed to perfectly reflect the absolute void of emotion emanating from him, and Raven was instinctively repulsed. She was used to absorbing the rage and pain of her adversaries, but the absolute _nothing_ she felt from this man horrified her to her core. _He doesn't even feel alive!_

It threw her off more than she could have ever anticipated, and it was all she could do to avoid his blows as he drove her back. Black barriers materialized around her rapidly to deflect his strikes and she had no opportunity to go on the offensive before she was backed into a door. _My room_ , she thought distantly.

The distraction cost her, and she failed to block a shattering kick to her torso that knocked her straight through her bedroom door. She could feel something broken deep inside her, but there was no time to recoup. He was on her again almost instantly and in desperation she threw her soul-self towards him.

That, at least, finally seemed to catch him off guard and she was able to propel him back through the doorway, raking his face, neck, and chest with her talons. He recovered quickly enough, and his next dodge was accompanied by a cluster of small shuriken that scored her wall before impaling her right shoulder. Her focus broken, the black raven dissipated instantly. _Where is everyone? They must have heard this...has he already killed them?_ She forced the thought away; they were fine, they had to be fine.

She willed herself to stand and fight, but only managed to get one leg under her before a hand wrapped around her throat. She lashed out at his face with her sharp nails, aggravating the deep cuts she'd already inflicted. He caught her left hand and snapped her wrist mercilessly before hoisting her up and smashing her backwards into the large floor-to-ceiling window in her room. The thick glass shattered instantly and she hung limply in his grip as she struggled to stay conscious. Though her thick cloak protected her from any lacerations, she was dazed from the blow to her head and her back was in agony. She could still feel nothing from the creature in front of her; no triumph, no anger, no satisfaction.

Some awareness was brought back when he tore her cloak off, and shifted his grip only long enough to jab something sharp deeply into the side of her neck. He re-tightened his hand on her throat and finally spoke.

"Do you know who I am?"

She shivered at his tonelessness, feeling lethargy spread through her. Her blood seemed to have been suddenly replaced with liquid lead and she struggled feebly against the arm holding her.

At her lack of response, he marched her to the other side of her room and slammed her roughly against the wall next to her bed. He held her there for a few minutes and his grip constricted painfully until white spots danced in Raven's vision.

" _No,"_ she finally managed to choke out.

He released her suddenly and she slid down, knocking over her bedside lamp in the descent. She came to rest limply on the floor, lying with her shoulders braced against the wall.

She tried for a deep breath, but even her lungs seemed to have turned traitor. It was as though every muscle in her body was operating at increased gravity. She tried to summon her magic, but couldn't. Trigon raged in his prison, but she was too far gone to harness his power now.

The intruder knelt in front of her, and she felt a tiny amount of satisfaction at the damage she'd managed to inflict. His skin was in tatters where her soul-self had raked him, and he was bleeding freely from the deep wounds across his body. A vaguely familiar green eye regarded her through a slice in his mask, and she wished more than anything she'd torn it out. _He'll have scars...no one can say I went down without a fight._

"I'm not here for you," he informed her coldly, "I would have preferred to have simply drugged you like the rest, but perhaps you'll serve my purpose better this way."

"What do you want?" she breathed weakly, each word agony for her damaged throat.

"First, I want you to acknowledge the reality of this situation, Raven."

Hearing him say her name sounded wrong, almost _corrupt_ , and she suppressed a shiver before he continued.

"Your teammates have all been heavily sedated, you are beaten and I've injected you with a paralyzing agent. There is no one who can help you," he paused, and for the first time she caught the barest glimmer of emotion from him - pure sadism.

"Say it," he commanded.

She paused, everything in her being wanting to defy him. But then he lifted his hand to reach for her throat again and she remembered furiously that she had nothing left to fight him with.

"There's...no one...who can help me," she bit out, hating how faint and raspy her voice sounded and giving him the most hateful glare she could muster.

He nodded blankly, "The second thing I want from you is simple. Tell me which room is Damian's."

Raven's heart nearly stopped as she felt another brush of sadism from the creature in front of her. "No."

"Don't delay the inevitable, girl. I'll find him eventually. It doesn't matter if I have to check every room in this Tower."

"Better get...started," she snarled, conviction seeping through her broken syllables.

His cold aura seemed to coalesce somehow, and if she didn't know better she'd swear the temperature around them dropped.

"Refuse me again, and I will kill you. Then, I will kill your entire team and take him anyways. You have one more chance to save yourself and the others," he said lowly, voice radiating with violent promise.

Despair replaced her fury. _I'm so sorry, Damian._

* * *

Damian's eyes snapped open, wincing as he became aware of a throbbing headache and the taste of bile in his mouth. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he was greeted with the familiar sight of his ceiling as he struggled to shake off his disoriented haze. Adrenaline raced through him inexplicably.

A sudden pang of alarm chased away his daze as he became aware of two things. One, his wrists and ankles were restrained. Two, he was not alone. He lurched up into a sitting position and glared at the dark shape standing next to his bed. A wave of nausea washed over him at the sudden motion and he spotted a hypodermic needle in his thigh.

"Epinephrine. You may feel a bit unwell," The figure advised him from behind a tattered mask. His voice was oddly familiar.

"Who are you?" he demanded, twisting his wrists behind him to test for a weak point in his cuffs and wishing futilely for his uniform.

"You've asked me that before," he responded vaguely. Recognition dawned on Damian, along with an unwelcome sense of deja-vu.

"No….Talia killed you."

Heretic pulled the shredded cloth from his face, "Yes," he agreed, "But death means little to an Al-ghul."

 _The Lazarus Pit….Onyx._ He recalled the expression on the female assassin's face when his mother had put his "brother" down. "You're not an Al-ghul," he scoffed, "Just a mindless soldier Ra's cooked up."

"No - I'm you. And I've come to finish what I started. I will be complete," he swore, conviction creeping into his otherwise emotionless tone, "I will take everything you have that I have been denied."

Damian noted several deep cuts along the right side of Heretic's face and body. "What have you done with the other Titans?"

"Sedated, and more or less unharmed."

"I don't believe you," he snapped, nodding towards the larger man's wounds.

"It doesn't matter what you believe. You have no chance against me in your current state."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

Heretic eyed him emotionlessly, "Your will is strong, as expected for the Son of the Bat. But I will have your cooperation. Get up."

Damian glared at him defiantly, but was eager to get his feet under him in the face of this threat. As he stood, Heretic gripped the cuffs behind his back and pushed him forcefully through his doorway. The restraints on his ankles were just long enough to walk with.

The hallway was quiet, but his gaze was instantly drawn to Raven's demolished bedroom door near the elevator. He forced down his panic before addressing the man behind him furiously.

"What did yo-"

"The Batman's files suggested Raven had a proclivity for sweets. My intentions were to drug her like the rest."

Realization struck as he remembered the dessert Jaime had produced earlier that evening. Damian was suddenly certain the message they'd received from Bludhaven was a fake. _Won't Dick and Kori be surprised when Donna shows up_ , he thought bitterly.

"Let me see her," he demanded.

"I have every intention of it," Heretic replied, marching him forward and shoving him into the room.

Damian fell roughly to his knees in the entryway. Lifting his head, he scanned the room and took inventory. Her large bay window was shattered, and the bright moon illuminated broken and disarrayed furniture. One wall had several deep grooves from a bladed weapon. He finally spotted Raven on the floor near her bed, back propped up against the wall. A toppled lamp flickered dimly near her.

He noted she was unrestrained, but her limp and boneless posture bespoke unconsciousness, or possibly even... _No!_

"Raven!"

To his palpable relief, her eyes opened and found his. It was then he noticed the severity of her condition - blood pooled beneath her from wounds in the shoulder and neck, and her throat was a mosaic of deep red and purple bruises. Her cloak was nowhere in sight, highlighting how battered, petite, and vulnerable she really was.

Heretic lifted him painfully by his wrist cuffs and thrust him closer towards her. Damian grunted as he landed on his knees again, glass shards slicing through the thin material of his pajama pants. Raven still lay prone, little more than a yard away.

"I'm sorry," her voice was barely audible, "I told him where you were, he said he'd kill the others." The guilt in her eyes was heartrending.

He shook his head, "You did the right thing," he locked his eyes on hers, trying nonverbally to reassure her. _I'll get us out of this, I swear it._

Heretic started to approach them then, his dead green gaze locked on the female Titan. She raised her eyes to him fearlessly, and Damian saw confused recognition swirling in her purple orbs. He had never told her about the clone, and could only imagine what conclusions she was drawing.

Fury reared inside him as the villain knelt before his paralyzed teammate, "Stay away from her!" he snarled.

"I have no desire to harm her further. I only mean to make something clear to you, Damian." His back was to the Boy Wonder, who used the opportunity to twist against his handcuffs surreptitiously. His fingers brushed against a large shard of glass on the floor behind him and he snatched it quickly in his right hand, concealing it in his fist even as it sliced into his palm.

Heretic laid a large hand high on Raven's upper thigh. She flinched as much as her immobilized body would allow.

" _Don't touch me!"_ she growled, her voice strangled.

He ignored her and addressed the bound man behind him. "Understand this - if you deny me completion or do anything to jeopardize the process, I will make her suffer every way I know how. She will die weeping and you will have to watch."

The threat was delivered with cold aplomb, and the barest spark of fear appeared in Raven's otherwise hateful glare as she took his meaning.

"I'll go with you. Now get your fucking hand off her," Damian's voice shook with anger. His mind was racing frantically for a plan of escape. Even if he were unrestrained, the lingering effects of the sedative would make it impossible to outfight his foe. _In charge for one fucking night and we're all set to be slaughtered._ He was disgusted with himself.

There was only one way, nearly impossible and fraught with danger. The Tower was outfitted with an emergency distress beacon to the Justice League's Watchtower. If he could trip it, the heroes on duty there would boomtube to their aid immediately. The switch was located in the briefing room, well out of the way of any exits. He could not fathom how he could convince Heretic to take him there, nor how he could distract him long enough to trip the signal.

The man in question finally released his grip on her, and Damian felt another surge of rage when he saw the black bruises his fingertips left on her pale skin. She was staring at him intently, her eyes bright with worry as Heretic hoisted him to his feet by his shirt. Despite the height and weight Damian had accumulated over the years, the super-soldier formula that had been used to augment his clone put him at a physical disadvantage. He tightened his grip on the concealed glass shard.

"Tetch is dead, as you know," the cold voice advised, "but his technology lives on." He gestured to a large pouch at his hip. "I need only a strong power source to complete the transfer. Take me to the Tower's generator."

Damian could hardly believe his luck, and it was everything he could do to keep his expression from slipping. _Impatient fool, we're not as alike as you think._

He tersely nodded, focusing his venom and anger to ensure they were the only things visible on his face. Heretic lowered him to his feet before turning him towards the door and shoving him forward. The ankle restraints caused him to shuffle unsteadily, but he managed to keep his balance. He prayed to whatever gods existed that his hand wouldn't bleed heavily enough to give away his makeshift weapon.

As he led Heretic through the Tower, a more detailed plan formed in Damian's mind. He steeled himself mentally and physically as they approached the door to the briefing room.

"In there."

Heretic surged ahead to open the door and Damian immediately began working the glass shard against his left wrist. The pain was intense, but his expression betrayed nothing.

"Where is it?" he demanded, glancing around the many machines and screens within the room.

"Far left corner," he snapped out, making sure to keep the edge in his tone. The distress beacon was on the opposite side of the room and he knew he'd need all the time and space he could get.

The clone before him seemed momentarily uncertain, studying his face carefully for signs of betrayal. Damian wondered at his impatient recklessness, especially after all of the careful planning that must have led him to this point. _It's desperation,_ he realized, _he's wanted this for too long to wait any further._ He recalled how wretched and pleading the man had been before Talia's bullet made an end of him. Even so, he could not find it in him to feel anything but hatred for his so-called brother.

Heretic looked away and took a couple steps towards the nonexistent generator and Damian knew he would have no better opportunity. With a fierce yank, his arms were free and the villain turned just in time to catch the thrown glass shard in his right eye. _Starting to become my calling card,_ Damian thought absently as he quickly assessed the damage he'd done to himself. His left hand was almost completely degloved and the cuffs hung ineffectually from his right wrist.

With an inhuman roar, Heretic tore the glass from his now ruined eye and barreled towards him. Damian twisted around a nearby server tower, barely managing to evade him with his shackled ankles. In his second miraculous stroke of luck, the other man slipped on the puddle of blood left by the degloving. Capitalizing on the split-second reprieve and using his momentum, he vaulted over to the room's main console to throw the distress beacon's lever.

The Tower was suddenly awash in red light and an earsplitting siren announced victory.

"NO!" Heretic's mutilated face was twisted with uncharacteristic rage as he charged Damian again. He slammed him hard enough to knock the wind out of the hero and pinned him against the console with his weight. The clone pulled a cruel-looking blade from his belt and Damian was certain for a moment that he really meant to kill him. Thinking fast, he gripped the loose cuff from his restraint in his right hand and drove the circle of metal straight in Heretic's mangled eye. Snarling, he recoiled and lashed out with his knife, scoring a deep hit on Damian's skinned left hand when he lifted it in defense. The pain nearly made him pass out.

Before more damage could be done, an arrow punched through the arm holding the knife and it clattered harmlessly to the floor while it's owner growled animalistically.

Heretic turned, and seemed to grow more enraged at the sight of Black Canary and Green Arrow.

"End of the line," Arrow announced, another bolt already nocked, "Let him go."

"No, I won't fail again!" he hissed in response, yanking the dazed Titan in front of him as a shield.

Canary sprung forward then, grabbing Damian one-handed by the front of his shirt and hurling him back towards her partner. Green Arrow caught him as he stumbled and the sounds of Heretic and Canary's fierce hand-to-hand fight filled the room. Time seemed to speed up as his wits slowly returned and Damian found his feet without assistance. When he finally raised his eyes to the scene, Heretic was pressed against the room's large window, favoring his wounded side even as another arrow punched through his leg. His expression was cold and dead once more as he eyed them all in turn. He finally fixed his dull stare on Damian.

"I'll make you suffer for this," he promised icily, barely audible over the screeching alarm. He slammed his weight into the window behind him and fell wordlessly into the night as the glass gave way.

"You have to go after him!" Damian urged, stumbling forward as if to give chase himself.

"Jesus, kid," Green Arrow said, catching sight of his maimed hand, "We've gotta get you to -"

"No! Go after him!" he snapped again, before pushing past the startled hero and racing as quickly as his restraints would allow back to the elevator.

It felt like an eternity before he made it back to Raven's room, and he nearly crashed into her as he burst through the demolished doorway. At some point during his own adventure she'd managed to stand and inch her way closer to the door, and was now leaning heavily on the wall. Her breathing was labored and her eyes were vivid with pain, but relief washed through him all the same. _She's still here, he didn't come back for her_.

He staggered over, bracing his good hand flat against the wall while the other hung uselessly at his side. He pressed his forehead against hers and exhaled with a tremble. The siren was no longer blaring, but red light still illuminated the scene ethereally. When his emotions were finally back under control, Damian lifted his head and regarded the woman in front of him.

"Your hand," she whispered, her voice still rough from Heretic's ministrations.

"It's fine," he responded absently, "it'll be fine."

"Seems like you've had a hell of a night," Green Arrow announced from the doorway. He nodded towards Damian, "Black Canary went after him, he can't have gone far."

'The rest of the team is locked in their rooms, sedated," he informed the archer.

"I'll check on them. First things first, we need to boomtube you and Raven to the Watchtower for medical attention."

* * *

Batman's angry footsteps echoed through the hallway of the Watchtower. He had been unable to speak to his son so far, receiving only an unhelpful briefing from Green Arrow upon his arrival. He had suspicions about who had attacked the Titans, but would know nothing for sure until Damian awoke from anesthesia. Black Canary had been unable to apprehend the criminal, Arrow admitted bitterly.

His injuries were few, with the extreme degloving on his hand taking precedence above the myriad cuts and bruises and any unpleasant side-effects of the sedative used on him. Raven was another story; the mage had been horrifically brutalized.

J'onn J'onzz finally emerged from the medical bay and gestured to the Dark Knight.

"You may see him now. But be warned, his state of mind is...agitated."

 _It always has been_. As much as he tried to appear in control, Damian's internal workings were relentlessly tempestuous. He brushed past J'onn silently, striding purposefully to the only occupied bed in the spacious room.

There were dark circles under his eyes and an unhealthy pallor to his skin, but his son's gaze was as sharp as ever. Batman pulled down his cowl to meet his stare properly.

"Heretic," Damian confirmed, "brought back by the Lazarus Pit."

"We'll find him," Bruce promised, "Once you've recovered, we can return to Gotham to start investigating. I'll get Oracle to begin the legwork in the meantime."

"Where's Raven?" he asked, gesturing to the empty hospital beds. Bruce sighed internally before answering.

"She's in our intensive care unit. Her injuries are severe."

He expected Damian would demand to see her, but the younger man just regarded his father wordlessly for a moment before turning away to stare at the far wall. His expression was neutral, and he didn't seem likely to break the silence soon.

"Damian, you managed to overcome impossible circumstances against Heretic. Your resourcefulness is the only reason she and the others are still alive. I'm truly proud of you," Bruce said, meaning every word.

"Leave me," his son responded.

_Transverse fractures on ribs 7-10_

_Spiral fracture on left wrist_

_Tracheal rupture_

_Grade 2 concussion_

_Lacerations on right shoulder_

_Puncture wound on neck_

_Class 3 blood loss_

_Patient also presents with intramuscular and periosteal bruising, primarily on the back and neck._

Damian read her chart again, feeling sick. His father, Donna, and various other heroes had commended him for outmaneuvering Heretic, but this did not feel like victory.

Raven's body had finished burning off the paralytic, and her magic was now dedicated to fixing the many injuries she'd incurred. J'onn was optimistic about her progress and expected her to be back to full strength within a few weeks. Demonic heritage had its perks.

Even so, Damian could barely stand to look at her. She looked so frail and tiny in her hospital bed, the stark white bandages fading her pale skin even more and highlighting the livid scarlet and purple bruises on her throat. He knew how exhausted she must be, but selfishly wished she would open her eyes.

He replaced her chart and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. Had it really only been a day since she agreed to leave the Titans with him? He had been worried she would change her mind, never imagining he would change his own. Raven was a liability, he realized now. A sore spot for his enemies to exploit, a distraction from his continued improvement. All the time he'd spent drowning in her violaceous eyes and lush figure should have been spent training. If it had been, she might not be broken in front of him now.

He closed his eyes, throwing his mind back in time to the person he used to be. Grandson of the demon, assassin, weapon. That person did not have his weaknesses and would never have been in this position. He could still be that person and keep to his father's code.

"Damian. What are you thinking?" Her voice was soft and afraid.

He looked up at her, forcing away guilt at the realization his emotional storm had roused her. He regarded her coolly, saying nothing.

The bright hospital lights seemed to leach color from the room, and Raven's amethyst orbs and red gem practically glowed against her pale skin and black hair. So too did her collar of bruises. His silence and something in his expression seemed to alarm her and she grasped for him with her unbroken hand, eyes widening slightly. She was unable to reach him and he made no move towards her.

"Don't do this," she murmured sadly, "don't shut me out."

Damian felt his resolve weakening, hating himself for letting her get this much power over him. He left the room without a word, ignoring the plaintive voice behind him.

* * *

It had been ten days since the attack, and Raven was more or less healed. Her magic had repaired all broken bones and other major damage, the only remaining evidence of Heretic being some scattered bruises across her body. She meditated atop the Tower, attempting to soothe a very different kind of pain.

" _ **Pathetic whelp,"**_ her father snarled, " _ **Are you a demon or a damsel? Pining so miserably for a mortal."**_

Trigon had been impossibly loud all throughout her convalescence, even more so than when he was first sealed. She knew why; she had not been this emotionally fragile since childhood and even meditating could not help her recapture the poise and reserve she'd sharpened for years. _Damn you, Damian._

" _ **Release me. I will make an end of him and we can forget this utterly foolish chapter of your life. You will be a queen over ash and fire."**_

She ignored him, as she always did. Her father couldn't care less about avenging her emotional pain, killing Damian was just his way of punishing her and washing away the disgrace of his daughter's love for a human.

" _ **Yes,"**_ he agreed, mocking, " _ **I offered you ascendancy and you repaid me by aligning with worms. I will never forget that, little bird. And now you reap what you've sown - the feeble mortal to whom you gave your body and soul has discarded you."**_

Raven shook her head and swallowed a lump in her throat. Meditating was going nowhere, clearly. She stood and smoothed out the loose civilian clothes she'd taken to wearing throughout her healing process, deciding to seek distraction with her teammates.

Something prickled in her mind as she descended the stairs and she realized Damian must be close. Despite his success at avoiding her and the thick wall he'd erected around his emotions, she still felt painfully aware of him. Lately, he seemed to have shouldered on a completely different persona, the bitter and angry boy he'd been when she first met him. He'd coldly rebuffed her first few attempts to speak with him, kindling her pride so that she refused to chase him down further.

" _ **At least you have that modicum of self-respect,"**_ her father sneered.

Damian had informed Donna he would stay just long enough for Raven to recover before going to Gotham to hunt Heretic with the help of the Bat-family. It wouldn't make sense to leave earlier and deprive the team of two members, he had explained, precluding the idea he was staying out of any lingering affection for her.

Raven stopped in her tracks then, focusing on the brush of Damian's emotions in her mind. _Anticipation, impatience, relief...he's leaving today,_ she thought, more certain than she'd felt in a long time. She pressed her palms against her eyes, swallowing a sob. _I won't cry for him….I won't._

Before she realized what she was doing, she was making her way to his room. She would weather another rebuke before she let him leave without a goodbye.

She entered his room without knocking, letting the door close behind her with a soft click. He glanced up at the intrusion, and the atmosphere in the room seemed to change instantaneously. He was tense and angry outside his emotional wall, and she felt her heart sinking in her chest.

"Raven," he greeted neutrally, dropping his eyes back to the suitcase he was packing.

"Damian," she replied softly, "I just wanted to say goodbye."

He nodded, busying himself with his task and avoiding her eyes, "Goodbye."

"Will I see you again?" she forced herself to ask.

"No, you and I were a mistake," the snap in his tone nearly drove her off, but the spike in his emotions gave him away and she realized his outburst for what it was. An attempt to divide them.

She launched herself towards him instead, locking her arms as tightly as she could around his waist and staring up at him, daring him to try and dislodge her.

"Leave me if you need to, but don't _lie_ to me," she hissed, "It was _not_ a mistake and you know it."

"You're letting your sentimentality get the better of you, Raven. We had fun, that's all," he tried to push her away but she held fast.

"You're such an idiot," she snapped, "how could you think you can deceive _me_ of all people? I _feel_ you, Damian. No matter how quickly you leave the room when I enter, no matter where in this Tower you hole up." Her arms loosened and she suddenly felt drained. Her head lowered and she nuzzled his chest, "You can't hide from me."

He was unnaturally still in her embrace and she sensed his turmoil. For the first time since she awoke in her hospital bed, she felt oddly at peace. Whatever he chose wouldn't change the past, and she wouldn't let him pretend otherwise.

Gently, as though she was made of glass, Damian pulled away slightly. His bandaged hand traced the line of her jaw lightly as he tilted her face back up to his. He studied her for a moment, and Raven let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding as his emotions stabilized into a familiar combination of greed, pride, and affection. It was Damian's signature mixture for her.

She realized distantly that her father was completely silent, driven from her mind by the strength of her feelings for the mortal he hated. Damian brought her back into the present when he pressed his lips to the corner of her eye and she noticed with a start that she was crying. She hadn't wept since she was a child.

He guided her backwards to his bed, pressing her against the mattress lightly and kissing away her tears before gently placing his lips over hers in an unspoken request for forgiveness. Her mouth opened for him in response and he kissed her deeply. She wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer, needing to make up for the days when she'd been unable to touch him. His right hand slid under her shirt and caressed her side in long, petting motions that soothed the tension from her body.

She ran one of her hands through his thick black hair before gripping it tightly, unable to control her possessive need. He exhaled against her mouth, biting her bottom lip admonishingly before pulling away.

He took only a brief moment to undress them both before settling over her again, attacking her neck and chest with his mouth. Feeling his desire for her compound her own lust was almost enough to drive her over the edge right there, but Damian suddenly stopped, his aura darkening slightly. She glanced down at him and saw why.

While most of her bruises were gone or faded to a sickly yellow, the marks Heretic had left when he gripped her thigh still stood out starkly on her skin. Damian was looking at them now, guilt and fury radiating from him. Raven lifted a hand, preparing to magic them away when he stopped her with a look. He covered the bruises with his own hand before burying his face in her stomach. She placed her hands in his hair again, running her nails softly against his scalp.

If they were another couple, this would have been a time for proclamations of love and guilt and apology. But they were Damian and Raven, Raven and Damian; words were paltry and scant in their world. Instead, she felt him loosen the dam of restraint in his mind and closed her eyes as the feelings washed over her. Beneath the guilt and self-hatred he'd been nurturing these last several days was a bottomless lake with her name on it. She shivered, momentarily frightened by the intensity of his regard for her.

"You think too highly of me," she whispered breathlessly.

He pulled himself back up to her, sinking his teeth lightly against her pulse point as he adjusted his position between her thighs. When he finally entered her, she twined her entire body around him, holding on as tightly as she could.

He held her against his chest as they moved together, murmuring in Arabic against her lips and throat. They went slowly, savoring. Though this was far from their first time together, Raven felt something new and different being drawn from deep within her. She tightened her legs around his hips and her arms around his shoulders as he drew breathless sounds from her. She wished vainly that he was an empath, worried that he might doubt the strength of her love for him when he can't imagine how much there is, how much she does. She called his name breathily as she came, repeating it over and over. He followed her a moment later, crushing his lips to hers in the last moments of his climax.

She closed her eyes as he withdrew from her and began to redress. He still needed to leave and hunt Heretic, and a bittersweet ache settled in her chest. She stood slowly, reveling in the lingering sensation between her thighs as she pulled a t-shirt over her nakedness. Belatedly, she realized it was his and resolved to keep it anyways. He was looking at her now, appreciation and hunger reflected in his green irises. She smiled demurely in return, banishing the shadows from her heart. _This is right. This is how it's supposed to be_.

She finished dressing and sat on the bed as he packed, memorizing the way he looked and moved, preparing for a long separation.

"Now who has a staring problem?"

She smiled at him, then bit her lip in preparation for a change of subject, "After you catch him, what will you do? I know you don't want to come back here."

He closed his suitcase with a decisive click, the look in his eyes contemplative. "I don't know," he admitted, "I may stay in Gotham awhile to train with my father. Clearly, there's still a lot to learn," his voice dropped off irritably. "I'll….come back to see you," he finished after a brief pause.

"I won't be here," Raven replied innocently.

He turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow.

"You were right that I've outgrown this place. If I want to be stronger, I need to be somewhere I can focus on honing my magic. I was thinking of asking Dr. Fate to take me in - the Tower of Fate has all kinds of powerful artifacts and energies to play with. Or maybe the House of Mysteries," she made a face, "not that rooming with Constantine sounds like fun."

He gave her one of his rare, genuine smiles and she was struck again by a sense of _rightness_ in the world. She stood and walked over to him, grabbing his unbandaged hand and lacing her fingers with his.

"Be careful hunting Heretic. I know what he wants from you and it terrifies me," she confessed.

He nodded, pulling her forward and planting a chaste kiss on the crown of her head.

* * *

Damian sat contemplatively in the cockpit of the Batwing, letting the miles pass in silence. Nightwing scrolled disinterestedly through his phone while Oracle debriefed the Bat-family on her current findings. Not much, as it turned out.

He wasn't sure if he should be flattered or annoyed by the lengths his father had gone to in tracking down Heretic. Instead of just recruiting himself, Nightwing, and Oracle, he had also reached out to Red Hood and Red Robin. Both "brothers" never failed to get on Damian's nerves.

He was confident his clone would be located soon, and secretly relieved for the backup. He could not afford to be beaten again and risk having his mind overtaken. The last thing anyone needed was Heretic's sociopathic madness channeled through Damian's own turbulent emotions. _Especially where Raven is concerned,_ he thought bitterly. He was past resenting himself for being unable to refuse her; he had too much of his grandfather in him to be ashamed of taking what he wanted. The selfish and possessive feelings she awoke were familiar enough and did not frighten him nearly as much as the soft, foreign emotions she could evoke with a simple glance or smile.

He tried to force the thought of his other half away, aggravated at the way her scent was still clinging to him. He closed his eyes and allowed himself a brief fantasy of the future; a powerful superhero duo, a beautiful witch all to himself, an heir with purple eyes.

He let the thought go and turned his attention back to Oracle, eager for the fight ahead. After all, someone was waiting for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my beta jltvaughn for her insights and time!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks to my beta jltvaughn!

"Lakes or oceans?" Damian asks.

"Lakes," she replies, "You?"

He agrees. Her turn.

"Cats or dogs?"

"Both."

"Nope, you have to pick one."

"Birds."

Raven pokes him in the side, but lets it go. “Dogs.”

"Sweet or savory?" He asks, knowing the answer.

"Sweet. And you prefer savory. Books or music?" 

Damian thinks for a moment, "Books. You?"

"Music," she answers instantly. 

He raises an eyebrow, "That surprises me, you're always reading."

"I do love to read, but music is more expressive. It makes me feel more," she explains tiredly.

"Hm," he acknowledges, also beginning to feel drowsy. They'd been at this for hours now, more complex conversation devolving into their current game of choice as the night passed by. Raven had been plagued by horrific nightmares earlier in the evening, courtesy of Trigon, and Damian felt responsible for keeping her company in their familiar spot on the roof.

At some point she began resting her head against his shoulder, but he didn't mind. 

"Sunrise or sunset?" he offers.

There's no response and he glances down to see her dozing against him. This is a first in their many late nights together, and he takes enough time to let her sleep deepen before lifting her carefully and taking her inside.

* * *

She catches him alone in the training room the next morning.

"Sorry for keeping you up so late," she says softly, "and...thank you."

He secretly appreciates her waiting for a private moment to tell him, knowing their teammates would blow the incident out of proportion. 

"It's nothing, I've been conditioned to operate on limited sleep. And I don't mind your company."

She smiles then, small and soft and just for him. Damian feels a nervous flutter in the pit of his stomach, and perhaps that's why he offers.

"Feel free to come find me anytime you have more nightmares."

She nods, smile broadening slightly, "I might do that. I slept better last night than I have in years."

Damian can't help but feel proud of himself.

* * *

It takes a while for her to come to him again, either out of shyness or some misplaced desire not to impose. But eventually she approaches him in the kitchen as he's enjoying a late night glass of water and touches his elbow.

"I'm sorry, but...could you stay up with me for a bit?" her tone is nervous, her eyes exhausted and pained. It's after 3AM and it's clear she's barely slept.

He nods without hesitation and watches the relief wash over her. Without a word, she teleports them to the roof. 

It's a warm night, and neither hero feels any discomfort despite their light PJs. They sit near the ledge and Raven asks idle questions to fill the silence. How is Titus doing with that new trick? Heard from Dick lately? Did she tell him that Tim sent her a postcard recently, signed "the best Robin"?

He snorts lightly at that, "Wishful thinking."

She smiles, settling against his side with an exhale, "I'm not qualified to rank Robins, so I don't know if you're the best. But you are my favorite."

His heartbeat picks up slightly, and they slip into companionable silence. Before long she's fast asleep against him once again, and he decides he doesn't want to go inside quite yet. He shifts them slightly to be more comfortable, and ends up with her head pillowed against his thigh. She's completely out and he's reminded of her earlier confession.  _ I slept better last night than I have in years _ . If this is all it takes to keep her nightmares at bay, it’s the least he could do.

Sunrise comes too soon, and knowing neither of them wants to answer awkward questions, Damian reluctantly rouses her. 

She opens her eyes slowly, blinking confusedly in the pale dawn light. When she realises their position she flushes alarmingly and begins to sit up, an apology on her tongue. 

"It's fine, I told you I didn't mind," he cuts her off. Her blush deepens, and he can tell she's wishing for her hood right about now.

"...thank you, Damian," she finally manages. 

Eyeing the sun on the horizon, she pulls herself to her feet and grabs his hand, transporting them down to the Tower's residential hallway. Yanking her hand away from his, she gives a quick, tremulous smile before darting into her room.

He smirks at her closed door, unable to help feeling smug. Yawning lightly, he turns to his own room.

* * *

She spends the next few days avoiding his eyes and slipping furtively out of every room he enters. It's frustrating, and a little hurtful, but Damian tries to be patient. He quickly realizes this is not a virtue he possesses, and his mood gradually grows blacker and snappier until the rest of the team is avoiding him too.

Finally, blessedly, she surprises him during a walk with Titus and apologizes for ducking him.

"This is really new for me...I've never had a friendship like this before," she admits, kneeling down to pet the Great Dane, "People don't usually get so close to me.”

He frowns a bit at her choice of words, and wants to remind her that she's always been different with him. Damian tends to be unapologetically physical around her and she’s never shied from his touch or hesitated to return her own. He thinks she knows this on some level, but it frightens her in a way that he can't understand. After all, this is the same half-demon powerhouse who unflinchingly fought the powers of hell and dismantled Brother Blood. 

Nevertheless, he’s hardly qualified to help her analyze these kinds of emotions and decides to let her figure this out at her own pace. As irritating as it is, he'll just have to practice being patient.

"You don't have to apologize. Just...find me if you need me."

* * *

Find him she does, with increasing frequency. He hates how she is still so shy and vulnerable in her approach, eyes down and voice soft as she asks "Please, would you?" or "Sorry, can we?" He doesn't understand how she's yet to realize that he can't refuse her anything. Perhaps her empath skills are on the fritz.

Winter comes, their spot on the roof is substituted with the couch in the Titans common room. Conversations are briefer these days, Raven choosing to recline against him or lie in his lap almost the moment he sits. Kori has happened upon them a few times, always throwing them a knowing smile when she does. He meets their leader's eyes fearlessly and realizes he no longer cares what the rest of the Titans think. Not when she sleeps well enough these days that even Garfield has noted her boosted color and heightened vigor. Damian can't help but take a fierce, possessive satisfaction in these changes.

One night, she's fast asleep on the couch with her head on his thigh while he flips through an obscure mythology tome she'd lent him. The tranquility of the moment is shattered when Raven inhales sharply and her entire body tenses. A choking sob tears itself from her throat and she's mumbling frantic, unintelligible entreaties.

She won't wake at first and Damian feels more helpless than he has in years. When her eyes finally open, they are filled with terror and brimming with tears. She sits herself up unsteadily, shaking her head and breathing deeply before muttering an apology. Moments pass in silence and he thinks,  _ hopes _ , he knows what she needs. Swallowing his reticence, Damian grabs her arm to pull her gently back down, settling her against his chest and running a hand through her dark hair in repeating, soothing motions. 

She gazes at him evenly, the terror in her eyes replaced with something soft he's never seen before. Whatever it is plays havoc with his heartbeat and he thinks he'd do anything,  _ everything _ she asks if she'd just keep looking at him that way. Before he can begin to process further than that, she shuts her eyes and he can breathe again. In no time, she's fallen back asleep and Damian is left alone to ponder just how far this has gone. As if to emphasize the depth of trouble he's in, Raven shifts against him with a breathy exhale.

* * *

It becomes a nightly routine after that, the moment they're alone after patrol or dinner her eyes are on his and they gravitate to their own corner of the Titan's common room. He dozes off with her now, not the least bit embarrassed by Kori's fawning smiles or Dick's vague jibes (because of course the redhead just  _ had _ to tell him).

This night they're poring over old case files from the original Titan's missions. Partly to expand Damian's knowledge of the team and its various metas, and partly because it never hurts to find some dirt on Grayson. Her head is in its familiar spot on his shoulder and his fingers comb lazily through her hair. Raven has turned out to be insanely partial to scalp rubs.

"This first group hardly seems impressive to me," he drawls, having finished a recap of the team's first run-in with the Fearsome Five.

"And we all know how easy it is to impress you," she replies dryly.

He tugs a lock of her hair lightly, "Our current lineup is far stronger. You could take this Jinx single-handedly."

Raven reads through the dossier he's referring to and shrugs, "Maybe. I still say we should try and get Superboy on board. It'd be nice to have a big gun around."

He fights off a grimace at the mention of Conner, "Tt. You're our big gun."

"Damian Wayne? Complimenting someone?"

He smirks and plays along, "Just because I can't grow extra eyes and cast people into another dimension doesn't mean I'm  _ not _ the best Titan. What I lack in magic I make up for in brilliance."

"And modesty."

"You have to allow me some faults, habibti," the endearment rolls off his tongue before he realises what he's said and he glances down at her quickly.

She has an eyebrow raised curiously, but the look in her eyes reassures him she doesn't understand. Or maybe he wishes she did. He tends to lose the plot whenever she's pressed up against him like this.

Raven doesn't have a prying nature, which is one of the many,  _ many _ things he's come to love about her, and she lets it go with a slight smirk before turning back to their files. 

After another few hours of discussing hypothetical matchups with villains past, and the amusing discovery of one mission that ended with Grayson being blackmailed into prom with a supervillain's daughter, exhaustion claims them. Damian knows they'll both wake early enough to disentangle and retreat to their respective rooms, and reminds himself bitterly to be content with what he has.

* * *

One night brings a duo patrol with just him and Nightwing. It's an odd setup, particularly considering his older brother is no longer a Titan and one would think he had his  _ own _ city to protect. That said, he goes along with it if only to scold Grayson about constantly lurking around the tower like a high school dropout who can't find friends his own age (Raven had made him watch  _ Dazed and Confused _ with her and the parallels were stunning).

"So, you and Raven, huh?" he asks casually.

Damian swears that if he's about to get a "safe-sex" talk, there  _ will _ be a decapitation.

"Mind your own business," he grumbles, deciding (generously, in his opinion) to give the older man an opportunity to drop the subject. 

Nightwing raises his arms disarmingly, "Don't bite my head off. Just wanted to say that I'm happy for you."

Damian glares disbelievingly.

"Really," he insists, "I'm...shocked you found someone you like who can also put up with you," he finishes with a smirk.

"Hm," Damian replies, turning his attention back to the streets below. 

"Also, be safe."

Nightwing  _ barely _ ducks the sword in time, and vaults away with a laugh. Damian is pretty sure he wasn't actually trying to kill him.

* * *

There's a light rap on his door later that night, and Damian wakes instantly. A glance at his digital clock tells him it's well past midnight and even without his detective skills, he has a pretty good idea of who to expect.

He opens the door and Raven is there, looking shy but determined in her tank and sleep shorts. She gives him a slight, half smile and he stands aside to let her in.

"I suppose it doesn't make sense to crash on the couch for a couple hours, just to scurry up here in the morning," she says, painfully nervous and embarrassed. He's reminded how much he enjoys having this effect on her, but stores that notion away for later. Words like  _ adorable _ and  _ charming  _ might never roll off his tongue, but he's allowed to think them.

"Makes sense to me," he says casually, heading back to his bed.

She slips in beside him, resting her head on his arm but avoiding all other physical contact. He’s tempted to reach for her hair, but doesn’t want to scare her away or exacerbate his own overexcited emotions. Having Raven in his bed is bringing all kinds of greedy desires to the fore, and something selfish and primal at the back of his mind is urging him to take the lead, make a move, do... _ something _ . He tamps down firmly on the rapacious feelings and images, reminding himself with no small amount of effort that he wants it to be  _ her _ decision.

Under control again, it doesn't take long for Damian to doze off, enjoying the warmth and weight where she's resting on him. To his immense displeasure and surprise, Raven is already gone when he wakes up early the next morning.

* * *

Despite how well he'd slept the night before, Damian is on edge all throughout the next day. She's avoiding him again, and as much as he wants to let Raven set the pace for their...whatever it is they have, her touch-and-go approach is really starting to drive him insane.

His frustration seems validated when his door slips open that night and he hears her dart quickly to the bed, footsteps as soft and light as a doe's. She tucks in next to him, and he can't quite take it anymore.

"Raven...why are you here?"

She turns her face towards him, violet eyes just barely visible in the darkness.

"I...well, you told me I could come find you if I needed you," she replies uncertainly.

"Why me? Why not Gar or Jaime?" he presses, needing to hear her say it.

"It...I wouldn't...they don't know how to help me the way you do," she replied in her usual deadpan tone, but he can hear the slight touch of panic. 

"Why do you think that is?"

She says nothing, and his frustration rises. Damian  _ really hate _ s being patient, and he's waited far too long already.

"You do realize," his voice drops to a whisper, "that this goes well beyond the bounds of a normal friendship.” 

She exhales, and she's lying close enough for him to feel her slight tremble. 

"Then why do you let me do this?"

He rolls his eyes at her attempted deflection, "I'll tell you after you answer my question. Why me?"

She's silent again, but he can feel her eyes locked on him through the gloom. After an agonizing wait, she shifts slightly and closes the gap between their bodies, pressing her chest to his and laying a soft hand along his jaw.

She’s more visible now, and her expression is the most unguarded he’s ever seen it. She’s terrified and excited, and the combination sends a chill down his spine. His own breath is slightly shallow and his pulse is roaring in his ears. She moves even closer, her lips only centimeters away from his before she stills and he can sense her self-doubt returning.

_ "Raven, you're so slow,"  _ he growls, and his patience snaps.

His lips are on hers in an instant, an arm curling around her waist to crush her against him. It’s better than he ever imagined and he doesn’t care how needy or desperate he might seem in that moment. She’s frozen for a moment and he feels real alarm, when a switch seems to flip somewhere in the empath’s mind. She suddenly responds fiercely, kissing him hungrily and twisting her hands in his hair. 

Passionate, undone Raven is impossibly captivating and Damian's not convinced he'll ever have enough. The feeling when she slings a leg over his hips and rakes his back with her nails is more than enough for him to forgive the many shy, teasing months she's subjected him to.

"Why you?" she murmurs angrily against his lips, as if it were the most ridiculous question she'd ever heard, "you have no idea what effect you have on me," she hisses, digging her delightfully sharp nails into him again for good measure. 

He's somehow drunk on  _ her  _ lack of control, he realizes distantly as she ravishes him. It's all he can do to keep up with her demanding kisses and her hands wandering under his shirt before his male instincts kick in and he pins her beneath him just as his alarm clock explodes in a burst of black magic.

He holds her hands above her with one hand, the other cradling her thigh where her leg is still slung around him. The look in her eyes is completely wild, and as arousing as it is, he knows enough to feel a bit of worry about her demonic heritage. He realizes he doesn't want their first time to be so animalistic and unhinged. 

"Calm down, beloved," he says hoarsely.

She's breathing deeply, and he watches in real time as she returns to herself. Her eyes soften and he releases her hands to cup her face. 

"I'm-"

"Don't you dare tell me you're sorry," he says thickly.

She smiles up at him, but it's different. "I'm not sorry, I'll never be sorry for this."

The look in her purple irises is similar to what he saw the first time he soothed her from a nightmare, but somehow distilled, stronger. He's reminded that he would do literally anything for her. 

"I guess I've been a bit...pent up," she sighs.

He bites back a sarcastic retort.  _ Oh, you've been pent up?! _

He moves off of her and lies on his side, pulling her flush against him. She instantly starts running her hand down his side and back, but it's nothing compared to the slow kiss they're sharing. When they finally pull away, he grabs her leg to bring it over his hips again, he liked it there.

_ "You're mine,"  _ he growls.

She just smiles again, planting a chaste kiss on his forehead.

"I'm yours," she confirms.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unapologetic, sappy fluff. Sometimes I just feel like writing cute stuff.

Damian hates what passes for journalism these days. And while he loves being a hero, society's obsession with the celebrity element of it never fails to infuriate him.

So, when Garfield tears into the room and loudly announces the new clickbait article about the Titans, Damian just _knows_ his mood is about to get worse.

It turns out to be some asinine piece ranking their appearances, with crass descriptions of each hero's best "assets."

Among the males, Beast Boy is thrilled about his second place rating behind Robin. Kid Flash sulks in third, Blue Beetle is an indifferent fourth, and Jericho frowns lightly to find himself in last.

Damian never liked his mute blonde teammate, annoyed by the way he always trails Raven like a lost puppy, but it's beneath him to care about such a shallow victory.

The female rankings make for a shorter list, obviously, and their predictability reminds Damian of mainstream media's pedestrian taste.

Starfire, Wonder Girl, Raven.

The first two had been in the room when Gar made his entrance, and he wastes no time informing the empath of the situation when she appears a few minutes later. She shrugs, rolling her eyes and wandering into the kitchen to start making tea.

She's never been vain, and Damian suspects she's used to being discounted this way. The female Titan who's not considered as pretty or perky or charismatic as the others - _although he thinks other girls can't even begin to measure up-_ and she lets this roll off her back with characteristic grace.

Until Gar's ribbing takes it a step too far, too excited about his own place in this insipid drivel to think before speaking. He teases Joseph, asking if that's why he's so into Raven - the only girl here he's got a chance with.

The corner of her mouth drops ever so slightly, and her thumb runs along the handle of her ceramic mug in a fidgety, un-Raven way. No one else notices anything, she's always been far too subtle for them. Damian makes a mental note to hurt the changeling _badly_ next time they have a match-up, even as Jaime smacks Gar in the head and Kori orders him to drop it.

Joseph moves over to Raven, shrugging apologetically and laying a hand on her shoulder. She twists away gracefully, smiling lightly and asserting with perfect poise that it takes more than that to get under her skin. Green eyes study her throughout, and a few minutes after she leaves the room, he follows.

He finds her on the roof, as he knew he would. She's not meditating, but staring towards the horizon and petting Titus absently. It's a blustery day in January, but the look in her eyes is faraway and for once she doesn't seem to mind the cold.

Damian sits beside her, and the black dog lifts his head in greeting before laying it back on Raven's lap. They sit in companionable silence while he struggles for the words he thinks she needs. Providing comfort has never been a strong suit.

It _really_ doesn't matter, he vocalizes eventually. She agrees, and _really_ , she's fine.

It's stupid how people are so eager to be objectified, he tries next. She makes a small noise of assent, but says nothing.

He knows Raven wants him to let it go, but he can't while she's still upset. And despite her denials, she definitely is. Damian decides to try one final truth.

He always found her the most visually appealing of all his teammates, he tells her matter-of-factly. Her head whips to him in surprise, and he doesn't flinch in meeting her eyes. She's blushing, the look in her amethyst eyes shy and disbelieving.

He means it, he tells her truthfully, trusting his detached tone to hide a sudden wave of nervousness. He can't quite bring himself to give her specifics, like how her pale skin seems to glow against her dark attire, or the subtle indigo shine in her hair, the way her eyes steal color from the rest of the room when she meets his gaze. If he was even braver, he'd tell her how completely _perfect_ he thinks her figure is. She's smaller and less muscled than their other teammates, but her curves are mesmerizing, her delicate frame radiating femininity. These are things he's not sure he'll ever be able to say out loud, so he finishes by telling her that she could have anyone she wanted.

She's still blushing, but a small, genuine smile finds its way onto her face. Damian takes a mental snapshot, knowing something this rare is worth remembering.

In a teasing tone, she wonders when he learned how to give compliments. He's been working on his social skills, he tells her with a sarcastic smile. Resolve flashes in her eyes momentarily, and before he can react, her lips press firmly against his cheek, brushing the corner of his mouth.

She pulls back after too brief a moment, and laughs lightly at the stunned expression on his face. His cheeks are red and his heart is pounding, but he can't help smiling back.

* * *

Garfield later finds them lounging in Damian's room while he hones his sword and she plays with Titus. He apologizes profusely, to the point where Raven rolls her eyes and grumbles that he's making her uncomfortable all over again.

Damian fixes the green hero with a warning glare and the words die on his tongue. Suddenly, he's glancing calculatedly between his two fellow Titans and something sly creeps into his expression. Gar straightens, clearing his throat and telling the two _lovebirds_ he'll see them later. In a second, Damian's sword is sticking out of the doorjamb inches from the changeling's head and his departure is that much hastier.

Raven's smiling indulgently at him, another light blush on her cheeks. He gives her a smaller, lopsided smile and promises he won't miss next time.

* * *

His walk with Titus the next day brings him past a plant nursery and a fleeting thought takes hold. As easy as it is being around Raven, Damian readily admits to himself that he's pretty clueless when it comes to the female sex. His father has hardly set a good example on how to foster healthy relationships, and he has no choice but to fall back on tired cliches. Women like flowers, right?

He enters the shop feeling a little foolish and uncertain, but hides it well enough under his businesslike facade. The place is full to bursting with flowers in every size, shape, and color, and he has no idea where to start. He lingers near a fluffy light purple flower that reminds him of cotton candy and the Titan's first ever "mandatory fun" outing.

An employee approaches to offer help, and he grudgingly admits he's looking for a gift. He insists on knowing who for and what the intended message is - apparently each flower has a different meaning. After a pause, Damian haltingly explains what he'd like to get across.

The worker gestures to the flower he'd been eyeing and informs him he _definitely_ doesn't want that one, the Iberis flower symbolizes indifference. Damian bites back an irritated scoff and wonders who the hell comes up with this stuff. The man tells him not to worry, they have just the thing.

He's guided to another corner of the nursery and presented with a tall red flower, its long leafless stem terminating in a spray of bright, trumpet-shaped blooms. A lily?

Amaryllis, the worker corrects him. He explains the message and Damian accepts his suggestion with a firm nod. The purchase includes a small card explaining the plant's meaning, but even without the symbolism he supposes it looks nice enough. Titus sniffs at his master curiously as they leave, seemingly wondering what the point of their little detour was. Damian doesn't have an answer, and can't recall the last time he did something nice for someone just because he wanted to.

Thankfully, no one intercepts him when he returns to the Tower. Distant sounds of combat assure him the team is wrapped up in training and he makes it to Raven's room unscathed. He picks her lock (being a superhero has its daily uses), and leaves her gift on the bedside table. Slipping back out of her room, he heads downstairs to join his team.

* * *

After training, he doesn't see Raven again until dinner. Her eyes are practically glowing as they find his, and the corner of her mouth quirks up knowingly. She hums softly as she prepares her plate, prompting Jaime to eye her oddly.

Despite the fact Damian usually sits alone at the end of their tall counter, Raven takes the seat right next to him. Gar snickers and whispers something to Jaime, who responds with a skeptical look. She doesn't spare either of them a glance, eyes focused on his profile as she nudges him lightly with her elbow.

In a soft, almost playful voice, she asks him what the occasion is. He shrugs and responds just as quietly - no occasion, just felt like it. He's watching her out of the corner of his eye, and notices her smile become a touch sassier as mischief sparks across her purple orbs. By the time he realizes what she's about to do, it's too late.

She leans over with casual grace and plants a soft, warm kiss against his lips. It's over in a second and Raven is looking at him with barely contained amusement. He hears Donna gasp and Gar's told-you-so proclamation to the team. Damian barely pays them any mind, fighting for all he's worth to keep the blush off his face. Three frantic mental recitations of the periodic table seems to do the trick, and with composure that would make Batman proud, he glances around the room at the team's stunned (in Gar's case, smug) expressions. He notes with some satisfaction that Joseph looks especially horrified.

He raises an eyebrow and barks out his characteristic 'What?'

That seems to be enough to discourage their questions for now, each Titan looking pointedly away from the odd couple in front of them. He rolls his eyes back over to Raven, who's still smiling impishly and looking _entirely_ too pleased with herself.

He asks her what that was for, his indignant tone slipping as she runs her tongue lightly along her bottom lip.

Her flirtatious expression is still in place, and he knows her answer before she even starts to speak.

_Just felt like it._

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In flower language, the amaryllis commonly symbolizes radiant beauty, love, and Victorian pride (regarded as a very attractive trait at the time). Fun fact - pride is also the sin Raven is associated with in the comics, with her brothers representing the other deadly sins.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Super short and quick one, trying to play around with a more playful, cocky side of Damian's personality. Not super thrilled with how it came out, but I got tired of staring at it.

Raven wasn't quite sure what she'd done to deserve this. Her day had started innocently enough - training, meditating, the usual - when an unexpected visit from Spoiler and Red Robin had thrown a wrench into things. The boisterous blonde had insisted on a coffee date with the female Titans, and it hadn't taken long for her to zero in on the empath with a barrage of questions and non-sequiturs.

"So, why'd you get him a dog?"

"I thought it'd be good for him. I know he likes animals."

"Mm. Dick says you guys hang out on the roof a lot."

"I guess. It's a good place to meditate."

She glanced pleadingly at Donna and Kori, who were watching the exchange amusedly. _Feel free to jump in anytime guys_.

"Nice of you to put up with him. God knows no one else can."

"Damian's not so bad," she replied defensively, "He's smart, mature, doesn't annoy me the way the other guys do. We have interesting conversations."

It wasn't until she saw the calculating smirk on Steph's face that she realized she'd played right into her hand.

"What?" she asked sharply, trying to hide her discomfort.

The blonde put her hands up disarmingly, "Nothing!"

"Quit teasing her," Kori said, not bothering to hide her own grin.

"Okay, okay," Steph replied, "One last piece of advice for you though, Rae."

"I don't _need_ any-"

"Wear a sexy bra."

Well, that was the last thing she expected. Raven blinked and felt her face growing warmer. "Wh-what?!"

All three of the girls were smothering their laughs and the empath could only imagine how mortified and ridiculous she must look. _Jerks._ So she had a bit of a crush on Damian - this kind of thing was to be expected when you've got a handful of hormonal, attractive teenagers living in a confined space together.

"Can we please change the subject?" Raven snapped.

Seriously, what did she do to deserve this?

* * *

"Dude, are you _kidding_ me?!" Gar proclaimed in an awestruck voice.

It was an impressive pile of mail, Raven had to admit. She had barely been able to look at Damian since returning to the Tower, but Spoiler had forced her out of hiding in her room and insisted she come see the gift she and Tim brought for the Boy Wonder. Clearly these two were well-matched in how they enjoyed humiliating others.

"You have fangirls... _you_ ," Jaime adds disbelievingly.

Damian ignored them both, glaring daggers at Tim's sly expression.

"All the Wayne kids do," the former Robin replied with a shrug, "Except Jason, on account of being legally dead and all."

"Um... _why?_ "

"We're rich and attractive, what other reasons do you need?" Dick chimed in, trying not to laugh at his youngest brother's clear irritation, "Alfred doesn't let us read them until we've turned sixteen though. So, happy belated birthday, Dami!" He teased as the boy grabbed the garbage bag full of letters and swept from the room.

Raven followed Damian up to the common room and watched with some amusement as he crammed the sack of letters into the fireplace. She wasn't entirely sure how she felt about the fact his civilian self seemed to have just as many fangirls as Robin, but she didn't think she liked it.

"Not even going to read any of them?" she asked lightly, hoping to bring him out of his black mood.

"I can't imagine a bigger waste of time," he grumbled.

"Consider yourself lucky. Not many people are on the receiving end of so much…" she struggled for the right word, "...devotion?"

He clicked his tongue. "It's not devotion, it's desperation. And it's pathetic. The kind of women who write these letters could never interest me," he replied scathingly as he flipped the switch and the flames roared to life.

"Harsh," she said, feeling somehow emboldened by his words, "So, what _does_ interest you?" she tried to ask casually.

He paused in what he was doing and eyed her curiously. Raven felt heat rush to her face and could only hope she didn't look as embarrassed as she felt.

Damian smirked suddenly, "Are you asking me about my _type_ , Raven?"

She shrugged lightly to try and hide her embarrassment, "I guess I am."

"Kind of a personal question, don't you think?"

She rolled her eyes and turned to leave, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Honestly, what had possessed her to ask in the first place? Why even assume he _had_ a type? Hanging with Steph had clearly just put her in an odd mood.

"Favorite color."

 _Huh?_ She turned back around and discovered he was now standing right in front of her, an amused glint in his eyes.

"What was that?"

"Start by asking me my favorite color," he clarified.

Raven blinked. What was with the Bat-family and their ability to completely derail the conversation?

He was looking at her impatiently, "Well?"

She rolled her eyes again and made sure to let out a long-suffering sigh, "What's your favorite color, Damian?"

He reached out and grabbed the sleeve of her navy blue jacket, fingers just barely brushing hers, "Blue."

His tone was deep and she suspected there was some kind of hidden meaning she was supposed to pick up on. But it was hard to analyze when he was _seriously_ in her personal space like this. And... _wait, is he leaning in closer?_

"Um, what are you guys doing?" Jaime's voice cut in from the doorway.

She nearly jumped out of her skin, but noted Damian's perfect composure and the smug smirk he still wore.

"Nothing," she squeaked. What the hell, since when did her voice _ever_ sound like that? "I'll be going now." There, that sounded a little better. With that, she summoned her magic and melted into the floor.

* * *

_Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos._

_Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos._

_Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos._

With one final, deep exhale she released her pose and unfolded. Finally, she felt a little better and more like herself. She was Raven. Raven doesn't get embarrassed, and she _certainly_ doesn't obsess over the look in Damian's eyes, or whether he was actually about to kiss her. Which is why she wasn't doing those things right this second.

 _This is all Steph's fault_. She could see why Damian didn't care for the heroine. _Sexy_ _bra_ , she thought scornfully.

Self-consciously, she pulled on the neckline of her white v-neck t-shirt to check her bra strap and see which one she'd put on today. It was blue. Of course.

_To hell with this._

It was early evening and she knew Damian would already be in his room. To escape the humiliation duo if nothing else.

She knocked on his door purposefully, centering herself and refusing to let him rattle her the way he had earlier.

The door slid open and she felt a myriad of emotions flicker through him in rapid succession as he realized who had disturbed him: annoyance, surprise, amused interest.

"Raven."

"Damian," she responded just as levelly. His smirk broadened a notch, apparently entertained by her show of bravado. _Brat._ "We were interrupted earlier."

"We were."

She stared fearlessly, even as her heart started to pound. "Well?"

"Hm," he sounded thoughtfully, before leaning forward and planting the briefest, most platonic kiss against her lips the world had ever seen.

He pulled back immediately, radiating disinterest. Raven had never wanted to throttle someone so badly in her entire life.

 _"Really?"_ She snapped out acidly.

His amusement only increased, "You wanted something else?"

She fixed him with a furious glare and turned on her heel.

In a second, she was pressed against the opposite wall of the hallway and he was kissing her fiercely.

"You're _interesting_ ," he told her meaningfully when they broke apart for air.

"There's something seriously wrong with your family," she forced out, trying and failing to seem indignant, "Mixed signals, fangirls, Steph telling me to wear a sexy bra. Humiliation olympics. You're all messed up."

"A sexy bra?" Damian asked, pupils dilated.

Raven bit her tongue angrily, feeling more embarrassed than she ever thought she was capable of.

"Are you?"

"Am I what?" She asked miserably, avoiding his stare. It was difficult, given he was pressed completely against her.

"Wearing a sexy bra."

Oh, so she _hadn't_ been as embarrassed as physically possible.

She debated her answer, "It's...blue."

"Can I see?"

And to think today had started so normally. Yet here she was, tentatively pulling on her collar to reveal a navy blue strap. Apparently that wasn't enough, and Damian suddenly grabbed the hem of her shirt and yanked it up to see it more completely.

His hands traced up her sides and teased the underside of her bra.

" _Interesting,"_ he purred against her neck.

"You're messed up," she told him again, slowly losing the ability to focus as he touched her bare flesh.

"You'll get used to it," he murmured, stealing another fiery kiss.

_"Damian?!"_

Tim stood at the end of the hall flabbergasted. He pulled away from her to fix his older brother with an annoyed glare.

"What, Drake?"

He was entirely too casual for someone who was touching her under her clothes. Tim's eyes locked on her and Damian yanked her shirt back down with an irritated growl.

 _"Raven?!"_ His voice was somehow shriller on her name.

"We're occupied," the younger man said pointedly.

The former Robin just shook his head as if traumatized, "I think Steph and I are gonna get out of here," he said, whirling around and setting a brisk pace back the way he'd come.

"Good idea," Damian responded to his retreating form before pulling his gaze back to Raven. He must have seen something in her expression that worried him, "What's wrong?"

"This has been the most mortifying day of my life," she admitted.

"Do you want to stop?"

It was a strangely earnest question from someone who was still toying with the edges of her bra.

"No. But can we get out of the hallway before someone else sees you pawing at me?" she growled.

His face lit up and his mischievous smirk returned tenfold.

"Whatever you say."

With that, his hand bunched in the fabric of her t-shirt and he yanked her forcefully into his room, the door sliding shut behind them with a decisive click.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and as always thanks to my beta jltvaughn! Updates for this fic will be less frequent from here - gonna be posting a new, multi-chapter story in the near future which will take more of my attention. Be on the lookout for that if you like DamiRaeKon!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My beta JT requested a super sad and angsty chapter with some Dark Phoenix vibes, so be sure to thank her if you like it!

_"It's...beautiful," Damian said, turning the blade and watching the light play across the black and red steel._

_"And deadly," she added, smiling at the wonder on his face._

_"Where did you get it?"_

_"Hell. It's a cursed blade, made for demon-killing," Raven said, her tone shifting almost imperceptibly._

_Damian tore his gaze from the weapon and eyed her curiously, "Why would I need a demon-killing sword?"_

_"You do spend more time around them than most," she joked, but the forced levity in her voice couldn't fool him. He re-sheathed the blade and stared at her expectantly._

_She sighed, and the look in her eyes was sad, "It's a powerful weapon, and I want you as safe as possible, habibi. But there is another reason I'm giving this to you."_

_She approached him then, placing her hands on his shoulders and staring directly into his eyes. He suddenly felt wary._

_"I am the daughter of Trigon. Something in my soul belongs to him still and it's always scratching, trying to get free. I feel it more and more every day. So...if I'm corrupted, if I ever...lose myself. I need you to promise you'll do what's necessary."_

_He stared at her in mute shock, protests firing rapidly through his mind. Raven must have felt his anger, his hesitation. The hands on his shoulder trailed to his face, and he instinctively leaned into her touch._

_"It's not fair of me to ask you," she murmured, pressing in close. He rested his forehead on hers, half-lidded eyes staring into hers and relishing the light brush of her lips against his as she spoke. "And of everyone, it shouldn't have to be you. But I need you to promise me, Damian. You are the only one I can trust with my life and my death."_

_"I can't promise you this, beloved," he mumbled._

_"You have to," she insisted softly, the look in her dark eyes sad, loving, devoted, and a whole host of other emotions that clawed at his heart, "You have all of me," she told him with a gentle kiss, "Don't let me fall."_

_He closed his eyes then, helpless as ever to refuse her and wanting to hate them both for it._

_"I promise."_

* * *

_Damian spent that entire night exploring her body, needing to make her feel loved and hide his inner turmoil with physical bliss._

_"I can't, not again," she breathed as he caressed her inner thigh and ran his tongue over a particularly harsh lovebite on her neck. He smiled and pulled back, admiring her marked-up skin and ravished expression. She was art._

_"I love you," he told her, bowing his head again and nuzzling her._

_"I love you, too," she whispered breathlessly, "But you're insatiable."_

_He hummed in agreement, finding an unblemished patch of pale skin near the hollow of her throat. He was genuinely surprised he'd missed a spot._

* * *

Damian stood in the back of the room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed as the Justice League and Titans debated Raven's fate.

"She's one of us!" Gar was yelling, "We should be talking about how to help her, not about putting her down!"

"Raven is beyond our help," Martian Manhunter replied quietly, "M'gann and I combined were not strong enough to overcome the demonic hold on her mind. I know how difficult this must be, but she cannot be rehabilitated."

"She's in there somewhere," Kori argued this time, "You can't expect us to give up on her just because-"

"How much more blood do you want?" Constantine cut in. The words hung heavily in the air. The horrific incident in Kahndaq was still burned into their minds, and no one had an adequate response.

"There has to be another way," Batman said firmly, the sole member of the Justice League who favored a non-fatal solution. Several of the Titans shot him a grateful look.

"Already told ya, Batsy. Zee and I tried everything to seal or purify her demonic energy. The magic she inherited from Trigon is too powerful," Constantine replied with a beleaguered sigh.

"I know how dear Raven is to you," the Martian Manhunter's calm voice cut off Gar's next protest. Damian ignored the not-so-subtle glances directed his way at the alien's words, "But I have seen into her mind. The friend and teammate you wish to protect is already gone."

* * *

_"Do you want to get married?"_

_Raven glanced up from her book in surprise, raising an eyebrow._

_"To me, I mean," he clarified._

_"Yeah, I figured," she replied amusedly, "So you're proposing?"_

_"I suppose so," he answered with a shrug. Nonchalance was probably not the best emotion when asking someone to be your wife, but it helped hide his nerves so he stuck with it._

_She smiled and the look in her eyes softened in a way that made his heart race._

_"Aren't you supposed to get down on one knee or something?"_

_"I can if you want me to."_

_Raven's smile broadened and she rolled her eyes, "Don't worry about it," she turned her focus back to her book and let several agonizing seconds pass. "Yes. I'd love to be married to you," she finally answered, eyes still locked on the page she was reading._

* * *

"He's right," Damian said, ignoring the stunned and betrayed expressions on his teammate's faces, "Raven always worried this day would come. She can't be saved," he finished tonelessly.

"How can you say it like that?" Gar demanded furiously, "Like you don't even _care,_ " he spat.

Damian felt his jaw twitch, but swallowed his anger, "We can't afford another Kahndaq."

He could feel his father's eyes burning into him beneath the cowl, but refused to meet the Bat's stare.

"I'll do it myself," he continued, gesturing to the hellish blade that hung from his hip.

He weathered a myriad of horrified and angry stares, focused on keeping his own expression neutral. Constantine was studying him with no trace of his usual irreverence.

"We can't let you, Damian," Batman eventually said, "You're the last person who should have to do this."

"It's what she wanted."

With that, he turned to leave.

* * *

_They gazed wonderingly at the tiny pink plus, and Damian tightened his arms around her waist. A baby. Their baby._

_Raven was smiling tentatively and he could sense her apprehension. He shifted slightly to plant a soft kiss against her cheek._

_"It'll be fine, habibti. You'll be a wonderful mother," he promised, barely able to contain his elation._

_"You're not nervous?" she murmured, eyes never leaving the pregnancy test in her hand._

_"We may make mistakes, but there will never be any child as loved as this one."_

_She leaned back into him, and he rested his chin at the juncture of her neck and shoulder._

_"I didn't know I could get pregnant," she confessed quietly._

_"You're full of miracles," he told her, one hand tracing circles on her abdomen._

* * *

The two magic-users fell silent when Damian and Bruce entered, in a way that left no doubt as to what they were talking about in their absence. He sighed internally.

"Well?" his eyes darted between the pair, daring one of them to speak up. Zatanna obliged.

"I don't think you can be trusted with this. Raven's had her hooks in you for years, who's to say she's not controlling you now?"

His eyes narrowed at the magician's choice of words, "By her _hooks_ I assume you mean our relationship? Has it occurred to you that's why I'm willing to do what needs to be done?"

"It could be a ruse. You _do_ seem awfully at ease with the idea of plunging a sword into her chest."

"Zatanna," Batman's voice was cold and furious behind him, "Not another word."

She opened her mouth to protest, but Constantine cut her off with a look of his own, "Easy, Zee. We'd be able to sense if he was under a spell and you know it."

Zatanna glared at him before switching her ire to Batman, "I warned you about her. Right from the beginning. Demons can't be trusted."

"Shut her up before I do, Constantine," Damian said lowly, rage coursing through his veins.

He obliged, pulling on her arm and muttering something into her ear. She wrenched away, shooting one last angry look at the Wayne pair and striding away.

Constantine sighed, "Sorry. She's...afraid." He turned to follow his partner.

There was much to fear. They'd be leaving soon.

* * *

_He awoke abruptly, instinctively reaching for her and finding only cold sheets. Light shone beneath the closed bathroom door and after a few minutes he rose to seek her out._

_Her cries reached his ears just as he lifted his hand to knock, and Damian felt his heart constrict. Raven had miscarried their son only two weeks ago, and had stubbornly hid her pain from him ever since. He was completely torn, wanting to grieve with her, but not wanting to smother. Feeling guilty over his own unchecked excitement when they'd first discovered they were expecting. Feeling completely unequipped in how to make things better._

_Swallowing his emotions, he gripped the doorknob and twisted. He wouldn't let her deal with this on her own any longer._

_She sat on the edge of the tub, weeping into her hands and barely noticing his presence before he knelt in front of her and gripped her wrists. Raven met his gaze and the pain in her eyes was almost enough to break him._

_"Damian," she sobbed, "This is my fault. I killed him."_

_"No," he told her firmly, "It's no one's fault, beloved."_

_"You don't understand. I'm losing control...the demon in me hates you, it hates us. It killed him, I know it," she confessed brokenly._

_The weight of her words sunk in slowly and he recalled the sinister black and red sword hidden at the bottom of his weapon's chest. Since Raven had given it to him, he'd stalwartly refused to believe the time would ever come for him to use it. She seemed to sense his obstinance and wrapped her arms around him, her movements weak and trembling._

_"The day is coming, Damian," her face was pressed into his neck and her tears were scalding. "Do you remember your promise to me?"_

_He didn't answer. Couldn't answer. Instead he pulled her as close to him as physically possible, holding her so tightly he could feel her heartbeat against his own._

_"It's not fair," he said to no one in particular._

* * *

Constantine's portal swirled in front of them, glowing with runes and pentagrams, nothing like the calm purple light or inky blackness Raven would summon.

The Titans and Justice League entered in twos and threes, each hero wearing a somber and determined expression. Damian went last, swallowing his grief.

Hell was much as he remembered it; fiery, gory, infested with monsters. The horde they faced was endless, two demons seeming to replace each one that was felled. Damian fought with detached precision, eyes locked on the tall stone structure in the distance. She knew he was here, the familiar tug of her magic around his heart beckoning him closer.

The group of demons he'd been engaging broke off suddenly, racing to attack the other heroes and leaving the way clear for him. She was getting impatient. Damian charged forward without hesitation, ignoring his father's loud protests. _Just a little while longer, beloved._

* * *

_A powerful bolt of lightning knocked Starfire and Blue Beetle from the sky, and the remaining Titans scrambled to avoid the additional strikes Black Adam rained down. His eyes caught Robin's masked ones and the corner of the monarch's mouth twitched up cruelly as he focused his attacks on the younger man._

_Raven's shield protected him, as it always did, and the villain's barrage was interrupted by Shazam. About time, Damian thought irritably. The majority of the Injustice League had already been contained, but the fabled dictator of Kahndaq was proving to be a handful._

" _You handle things on the ground, I'm going to help Shazam," Raven said, not waiting for a response as she took to the sky, uncharacteristically eager._

_Damian frowned, perturbed by the ever-increasing displays of violence from his fiancee. He shook it off for now, and moved to assist his fallen teammates. Starfire was stirring feebly but Beetle was still out. Some civilians had started to press in, barely contained hostility in their expressions. Despite the evils he'd committed, Black Adam was beloved by his people. Robin ignored them, tending to the task at hand before an inhuman scream drew his attention._

_He looked up in alarm, just in time to witness Kahndaq's monarch being torn apart by angry tendrils of black and purple magic. Raven glowed with energy, smiling gleefully and radiating malice from four slitted red eyes._

" _What did I tell you, Shazam? Your wizard is no match for me," she said in a voice that wasn't her own._

_The red-suited hero looked at her, horrorstruck. "What have you done? What's happening?"_

_On the ground, people were wailing in grief and rage, cursing the witch in their native tongue. She eyed them contemptuously from above before giving a sick, fanged smile. "That's no way to treat your savior."_

_A concentrated beam of her magic shot into the ground and energy radiated across the city. The world fell deadly silent._

* * *

Her back was to him.

"Damian," she purred, her voice husky.

"Raven."

"Here to keep your promise?" she asked slyly, "That was unkind of me, wasn't it? Setting you to a task like that."

He didn't answer, but tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword and approached her. When she turned to face him, he nearly dropped the weapon.

Her skin was dappled in red and white, and one of her four eyes shone purple. She was smiling mirthlessly, showing off sharp canines. Everything about her appearance showed a being at war with herself, and Damian felt crushing guilt. How had he let this happen?

"Don't fret, my love. I release you from your duty," Raven said smoothly, eyeing the sword in his hand. Something in her expression seemed to glitch, and the red patterns across her pale skin shifted and swirled. He watched raptly, unable to move or speak.

"You didn't come here for nought, though. Perhaps I'll keep you as a body-servant once I've taken your world."

Red was starting to creep over the lone purple iris that still remained, and it was enough to break Damian's paralysis. He took a step forward. Raven didn't move, but her hands started to tremble.

 _I love you,_ he thought fiercely. Hoping she could still feel him.

"Hurry, Damian," she whispered, almost inaudibly.

He closed his eyes and lunged forward, flinching as a warm spray landed across his face.

* * *

" _Hey," something poked his ribs and Damian's eyes opened, blinking against the bright light._

" _Over here," a soft hand trailed his jaw, pulling his gaze to her._

" _Raven?" his mind felt muddled, "Where are we?"_

" _Heaven, Valhalla, the afterlife, whatever you want to call it."_

" _I'm dead?" he asked, not remembering anything that occurred after he struck her down._

" _No, but I wanted to say goodbye. And thank you," she said, her voice taking on a sad edge._

_His heart sank, "How long can I stay?"_

" _Not too long, habibi. I know it's unfair, but there's one more thing you need to promise me before you go."_

_He sighed, resting his forehead on her pale shoulder, "I have nothing else to give, beloved." Just the thought of what was - or wasn't - waiting for him when he returned to the land of the living made him feel hollow._

" _I'm greedy, aren't I?" she teased, running her fingers through his black tresses, "But I want you to promise me you won't hate yourself, that you'll try to live a full life. I can never thank you enough for what you've done for me, and I'm so, so sorry for what I've put you through," her voice cracked slightly._

" _I don't want to go," he told her, just as miserable._

" _I know. But you must. I'll find you in the next life and fall in love with you all over again," soft hands cupped his face and he was suddenly drowning in her lilac eyes, "Live well until then, Damian."_

_He stole one final kiss as the light began to recede. Their time was up._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always appreciated, and thanks as always for reading! Also, I guess feel free to comment if you have a prompt or idea you'd like me to try - can't promise I'll always be able to come up with something, but I'm always looking for inspiration.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My first (and probably only) attempt at an "evil" AU? I didn't mean for it to come off super dark, but sometimes the story just does it's own thing.

Damian has always struggled to navigate emotional situations, and it's not a skill he has much interest in developing. So it follows that funerals aren't really a comfortable setting for him. Least of all a funeral for their traitorous ex-teammate.

Terra.

But Kori insists and Gar is devastated, so Damian swallows his objections and goes along with it. It disgusts him to hear her valorized and whitewashed for a single act of kindness at the very end. He recalls her vicious glee when she sold them out. And he's never been one to forgive easily.

As the simpering eulogy progresses, he feels rage swelling within him. Something about it feels personal, and he's not sure why. Up until this moment he'd reserved far more hatred for Slade than his apprentice. A bitter regret soon accompanies the anger. For trusting her. For doubting his own instincts. For not killing that vile, scheming bitch herself.

_Oh._

It's at that moment, he realizes the fury and regret aren't his. They're _hers._ Raven is standing in her usual spot to his right, in that unabashedly close way he's grown used to in the last several months. Their empathic bond had never been fully severed, but he'd always been more or less protected from it by her unshakeable discipline.

Discipline that seems to have completely evaporated. She's standing preternaturally still, dark eyes narrowed at a spot on the floor.

Raven is angry.

It's surprising, because in the over a year he's known her, one thing has always remained true. _Raven doesn't get angry_.

Annoyed? Sure. Grouchy? Sometimes, although that's more a front she puts up when she's trying to be left alone. Even when they first met and she'd snapped at him to stay away from her. Raven will _act_ angry to chase you away, but she doesn't _get_ angry.

But now...more than angry. She is _furious_.

Terra had been the one to capture Raven, and if the state of the Tower was anything to go by, it had been a spectacular battle. But the witch had lost, and that fact burns her like acid. He feels it as powerfully as any of his own stinging defeats.

Her arms are crossed, nails digging into the soft flesh of her upper arm. Her glare on the floor sharpening with every kind word about Terra that fills the room.

Again, Damian doesn't really know how to deal with emotional situations, but he feels like he should do something. After all, Raven has told him that anger makes her more susceptible to her father's control. That in mind, he rests a hand on her shoulder.

And he is completely unprepared for how strongly it hits him when they're in physical contact.

Her fury cuts like a sword. She hates... _hated_ Terra. He can't quite hear what's said, but is aware that Trigon is whispering dark encouragements to his daughter, emboldened by the rage she's feeling. He closes his eyes and tries to parse through the feelings that run through them both.

Beneath the anger, she is ashamed and humiliated. Wounded pride - a sensation Damian is all too familiar with - festers in the back of her mind. She could have beaten Terra, she _knows_ she could have. Perhaps it would have been worth the price.

" _Yes,"_ Trigon tells her, the words echoing through their bond, " _If you had only let go."_

Raven trembles lightly, but it's not from fear. She imagines what the geomancer's expression might have been if she _had_ let go. Her cocky smirk erased by claws, fangs, and hellish magic.

Before he's completely overwhelmed, Damian squeezes her shoulder to bring her gaze to him. He jerks his head to the door and she nods, the both of them slipping out of the room and ignoring the rest of the team's confused and disapproving stares.

They stand in the hallway, her hand rising to lay over his own where it still sits on her shoulder. Both of them close their eyes.

One of his favorite things about her is how little they actually need to say to each other. Raven rarely fills the air with pointless words, or obvious things that don't need vocalizing. But she does eventually speak, and even though he already knows what she's going to tell him, he won't stop her.

"I wanted to tear her apart," the words slip out, hoarse and quiet. And very, very true. Saying it aloud causes the tiniest spark of guilt to flare within her.

And Damian understands. He's perhaps the only person who can. Reconciling his heroic morals with his more violent and ruthless tendencies is a daily struggle. She's telling him this because _she_ knows that _he_ knows, and Raven doesn't want to be lectured by someone who doesn't understand that kind of darkness.

And Damian wouldn't _dream_ of lecturing her right now. This taste of her anger, her hatred, her bloodlust...it rouses something. His own subdued demons, the pure Al Ghul side of him.

"I know," he whispers back, "It's beautiful."

Because it is. And honestly, why shouldn't she be allowed to feel vengeful for once? So much evil had been done to her, why shouldn't she wish to enact a little of her own? It's only natural.

She shivers, head falling forward to rest against his. The sharp edges of her gem are digging into his skin, but he doesn't pull away. Too focused on the push and pull of their emotions, the way they blend and mix. There has never been anything in his life that felt this good.

Their own brand of heroism, flavored with blood, sin, and vindictiveness. _Yes_. He wouldn't change a thing. _Perfect. Beautiful._ He could get used to having her this close.

Several minutes pass before she finally starts to return to herself, anger slipping back into the dark recesses of her mind until she's calm, gentle Raven again. Damian gathers himself as well, gradually becoming aware of their proximity and pulling away slowly. Not wanting her to feel insecure.

He doesn't open his eyes until they're fully separated, the two of them studying each other warily. His head is starting to clear, analytical mind completely at a loss for what just happened. Whatever it was, he's painfully aware that things between them will be different going forward. And he doesn't think he minds.

If the look in her dark violet eyes is anything to go by, she doesn't either.

* * *

Years pass. They evolve. No one is really surprised to see them together.

Most nights are wholesome, and the love between them heats the air. Soft words and softer lips to soothe them into sleep.

But there are other nights. Nights after fierce battles and gruesome injuries. Nights where their demons come alive, awakened by blood and brutality. Malicious creatures, who think only of the damage they can inflict.

Those nights are told in dark handprints on her pale skin, deep tracks in his back, the taste of blood on their tongues when they finally sleep, satiated. _Perfect, perfect nights_.

It's one of those nights where things take a turn. He's buried deep inside her, teeth breaking the soft skin of her throat as he drowns in her purrs.

They'd done battle with Adonis. He would never walk again.

Damian could only feel dark satisfaction at the thought. Even as his other teammates stare reproachfully. Even as Kori asks him whether it was truly necessary. Their opinion doesn't matter when he can feel her clawing hungrily at him through their bond.

She rolls them over, nails biting into his abdomen as she arches back and clenches around his length. He growls and grips her waist hard enough to leave deep black bruises. " _Mine."_

She hisses and four red eyes are suddenly looking down at him. _Beautiful._

It's impossible for either of them to be afraid of the other. It's one of the reasons he loves her so much.

She lays on top of him in the afterglow, her gem cutting into his forehead the same way it had so many years ago. Like then, he doesn't pull away. Instead, he listens to her vision, feels her desire for it burning through his veins.

"We could be so much more," she murmurs, lapping a spot of blood from his lower lip, "Do you still want to make the world stronger? Better? You need only say the word."

He imagines it. Sitting on his grandfather's throne with her in his lap, passing down their judgement on the degenerate criminal masses. No more half-measures. Justice _and_ vengeance, the very best of both their worlds. He wants it more than he's ever wanted anything.

They leave that night, vanishing in swirls of black magic. The Titans have no idea where to find them, and even Batman can only turn up false leads. But it doesn't take long for the rumors to start.

* * *

There are whispers in the criminal underclass. The League of Shadows has been reformed, led by a man in a golden jackal's mask who calls himself Ra's Al Ghul. He rules with an iron fist and unflinching violence, but it's been suggested that he himself is ruled by the violet-eyed enchantress at his side. Even Lady Shiva goes in fear of her.

It's everything Damian imagined and more. Father would call it evil, in his simple, absolutist way. But he knows better. She knows better. Raven swore to him long ago that she would not make the same mistake she once made with Terra, and when the condemned are brought before her, she scours their souls unapologetically. She cannot be deceived, and he cannot be swayed. They are _not_ evil. They remove evil, and the world is a better place for it. Harsh justice is justice all the same.

And if it feels good, where's the harm in that? It would be far crueler to give this task to someone with no taste for it.

Father and Grayson find them eventually, as he was certain they would. He bears them no ill will, but the feeling is not mutual.

Raven rests on the arm of his throne, one arm curled comfortably around his neck as they study the two men below. It's a good day for them, the emotions they trade are soft and warm while they listen to his family's entreaties. Apparently, this is all her fault. Can't he see she's given into Trigon?

The accusation surprises neither of them, and amuses both of them. In truth, her father has never been weaker. Bonded as they are, she and Damian together are far too strong for him.

"Enough," he says, cutting them off, "Think what you like, but insult her again and you will leave this place sooner than you wish and with more scars than when you came."

Raven drops her head against his shoulder and smiles, radiating love.

His father's eyes are hard, and Grayson's are sad. He realizes they are incapable of understanding, and feels momentarily bitter.

"You have your methods, and we have ours. I am grateful for your lessons, father. If there is nothing else…" he stands to leave, pulling Raven up with him. The guards in the room drop to their knees automatically.

"Damian," Bruce says, his voice pained, "Please, son. Come home."

 _Incapable of understanding,_ the thought repeats as he glances towards the beautiful creature next to him.

"I am home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout-out to the amazingly talented dk for inspiring me on this one, it was her League of Assassins AU drawing that sparked the idea (https://andthendk.tumblr.com/post/612323309767524352/damirae-league-of-assassins-au).


	11. Mini-update, Happy Halloween!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween! Mini-update here. Fair warning, it's super lame and cheesy, but I wanted to do something for the holiday.

* * *

"Not happening," she said disinterestedly, not bothering to look up from her book.

" _Please_ , Rae? Pretty please with a cherry on top?"

"No."

"Come on, this should be right up your alley! How can you not like Halloween?" Gar insisted.

"I like Halloween just fine, but I'm not going to a costume party."

He shifted into a kitten, staring up at her imploringly. "Pwetty pwease?"

She spared him an annoyed glance before turning back to her page. " _Why_ exactly is this so important to you?"

"It's been _ages_ since we did something together as a team, and we never get a chance to celebrate Halloween."

That was true. October 31st was a famously crime-ridden day of the year and the Titans usually pulled an all-nighter with the local police wrangling drunks and vandals. Sighing, she glanced over at the flier again.

**SPOOKTACULAR! SPOOKTACULAR!**

_**Join us 10/30 at Pier 74** _

_**for an unforgettable Halloween bash!** _

_**Music, drinks, scares, and more!** _

_**Costumes required, $10 cover** _

"It seems a bit juvenile, don't you think?"

" _Come_ on," he said again, "Old warehouses, spiked punch, costumed strangers. What's more Halloween than that?"

Gigantic kitten eyes were still fixed on her pleadingly. Raven debated internally - as much as this didn't sound like her kind of thing, it's not like she had other plans. And it _would_ be nice to get out of the Tower for a while.

"Fine."

"Awesome!" he shifted back and hugged her tightly, much to her annoyance.

Pulling back, he produced a bright orange shopping bag and dropped it in her lap, "Already got you a costume," he announced cheerily before racing out of the room and calling for the rest of their team "Guys, she said she'd go!"

Raven eyed the bag suspiciously, all but positive she was going to hate what it contained. With an irritated huff, she reached in and pulled out a cheap gold halo.

_...You have gotta be kidding me._

* * *

Raven leaned against the back wall, feeling more than a little ridiculous in her getup. She yanked at the hem of the short white dress, oddly self-conscious despite the fact it covered just as much as her crime fighting uniform.

She took another sip of her drink to try and take the edge off, eyeing her teammates on the dance floor. Donna's nurse costume was turning out to be a hit, judging by how many partners were vying for her attention. Dusty Springfield's 'Spooky' had started filtering through the speakers and Raven hummed along absently.

_First I say no, I've got some plans for the night_

_And then I stop_

_And say "all right"_

_Love is kinda crazy with a spooky little boy like you_

An accusatory voice cut through the music, "He actually got you to wear it?"

She glanced at Damian from the corner of her eye and lifted her cup to her lips. "Not. Another. Word."

" _And_ you're drinking," he tsked.

"You would be too if you were stuck in this ridiculous thing." She turned to face him directly, taking note of his sweater and jeans. "They let you in? I thought costumes were required."

"This place isn't exactly Fort Knox."

She smirked, dropping her eyes from his. "So why are you here? This doesn't seem like your scene."

"Yours either. I didn't believe Garfield when he said you were coming."

She idly swirled the liquid in her cup. "Had to see for yourself?"

"I _especially_ didn't believe you'd consent to an angel costume," he continued, ignoring her.

She frowned, cocking her head innocently. "You don't like it?"

Maybe it was the alcohol making her feel bold, or maybe the fact that Damian had _clearly_ only come because she was here.

"I didn't say that."

_You always keep me guessin'_

_I never seem to know what you are thinking_

_And if a girl looks at you_

_It's for sure your little eye will be a-winkin'_

Before he could elaborate, Gar appeared next to him with a maniacal grin. It looked more than a little insane in the conjunction with his zombie facepaint.

"You're here!" he slurred slightly, "I _knew_ it," he said with a sloppy wink at the Boy Wonder. Damian scowled.

He turned to Raven, still grinning, and handed her an orange bag, much smaller than the one he'd pressed on her this morning. "Costume for Dami. Make him wear it, he'll listen to you."

With that, the changeling winked again and raced clumsily back to the dance floor.

"He's going to be a useless mess tomorrow," Damian said disapprovingly.

Raven was too occupied with the contents of the bag, an amused smile spreading across her face. He eyed her warily.

"What?"

Meeting his gaze, she pulled out a pair of red devil horns. He scoffed, "Not a chance."

"It could be worse," she said, gesturing to her own attire. "Besides, we wouldn't want you to get kicked out."

With that, she stepped forward and slid the headband down behind his ears. He glared at her, but made no move to pull away as she straightened the horns.

_I get confused, 'cause I don't know where I stand,_

_And then you smile_

_And hold my hand._

_Love is kinda crazy with a spooky little boy like you._

"There. Now the outside matches the inside," Raven teased with her hands still in his hair.

She had earned a light blush and he opened his mouth as if to respond before quickly snapping it shut. Raven bit back a sigh of disappointment, stepping away and crossing her arms.

"So," she tried again, "why _did_ you come?"

He crossed his arms as well, mirroring her. "To keep an eye on everyone. Did none of you think how an enemy could take advantage of this situation while you're all getting drunk?"

"We're in _costume_ , Damian. Even Gar. How would they know we're here?"

"Your costume isn't exactly _concealing_ much," he grumbled, looking away.

"I thought you liked it?" she shot back, enjoying his discomfort.

"I don't...not like it."

"High praise. I'll take it." She stepped closer and reached up to fiddle with his horns again, "Besides, it goes with yours."

_If you decide someday to stop this little game that you are playing_

_I'm gonna tell you all the things my heart's been a-dyin' to be saying_

_Just like a ghost you've been a-hauntin' my dreams_

_But now I know,_

_You're not what you seem_

Damian smiled down at her and didn't object when her hands fell to his shoulders. After a moment he reached out to tug lightly on one of her fake wings.

"It does. And now the outside matches the inside."

_Love is kind of crazy with a spooky little boy like you_


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiya. Short one today, just imagining how it might have gone when Superboy met the Titans.

* * *

He's training in the holodeck with Beetle, mind calm as his body and sword move through familiar motions. It's relaxing in it's own way, and about as close to _bonding_ as he's willing to get with anyone not named Grayson or Raven.

The tranquility of the routine is shattered when he senses something behind him, and in a move almost too quick to see, he's turned around and the blade of his sword is wedged threateningly against an intruder's neck.

"Whoa! You're so fast for a human!"

Damian's eyes narrow in recognition. Even if his face hadn't been obnoxiously plastered all over the news for the last few months, the flashy "S" decal on his chest leaves little doubt as to who he's dealing with. He appraises the Titan's newest member skeptically, sheathing his sword in one fluid motion.

"Superboy? We thought you were coming later tonight?" Beetle asks, perplexed.

"Yeah, well, surprise," he grins. "I wanted to meet everyone without the big guy hanging over me. I'm Conner."

"I'm Jaime, this is Damian."

The latter is clearly not too thrilled about being interrupted, and even less so with the fact that _anyone_ affiliated with Lexcorp is being allowed to join the team. Corporate rivalries between their fathers' aside, the clone was made with Luthor DNA and bred to do Luthor bidding. His protests had fallen on deaf ears, as ever. He wonders how many times they'll have to be betrayed before Kori and Grayson wise up.

"Blue Beetle and Robin. I'm a huge fan," Conner replies, "Where's leader-girl? The alien?"

"Starfire doesn't live at the Tower. Which is why they scheduled a specific time for you to show up," Damian says pointedly.

"Oh...whoops," he shrugs.

"Don't worry about it," Jaime cuts in genially, "We'll show you around. And yes, Damian is always like this."

"Tt."

"It's a 'bat' thing, right?" The clone asks him as they make their way out of the training room. "They're the broody, serious ones."

 _Whereas 'supes' are vapid and overly personal_. Whatever. He steps in front of the other two boys heading for the common room. By the time they're halfway there a headache is already building behind Damian's eyes from Conner and Jaime's animated chatter.

"Yeah, so then the Eradicator shows up and ruins the whole thing. I had him on the ropes before Steel got involved, but it's sorta when things started going downhill with Lex. Then Superman comes back and he seems _way_ more chill at first, but then he tells me I gotta go stay with the Kents for a while to quote, "learn manners," and they do _not_ mess around. I can't tell you how good it is to be back in the city, hero-ing and all. Though I am gonna miss..."

_He and Garfield will get along famously. Neither knows when to shut up._

They reach their destination and the door swishes open to reveal the Tower's spacious living area and kitchen. The room is empty save for Raven, meditating in her usual spot near a sunny window. Conner's chatter abruptly stops.

"That's Raven, right?"

Damian rolls his eyes. "Obviously."

"She's so cool, Clark told me how you guys fought her dad."

Jaime starts to tell him that's a bit of a sore subject he _might_ want to avoid with her, but Conner's not listening. Eyes locked on her levitating form, he zips over and stands directly in front of her.

"Hey babe, I'm Conner."

Lilac eyes open, and she raises an eyebrow at the bold smirk on his face.

"You're early," a pause, "Did you just call me 'babe'?"

"I call it like I see it. I couldn't _wait_ to meet my favorite Titan in person," he winks.

She eyes him doubtfully as she rises and Damian has an almost painful grip on the hilt of his sword. _Perhaps Garfield isn't actually so bad_ , he concedes internally, fighting down his aggression.

"Um, thanks. Welcome to the team, I guess."

Conner grabs her hand, smirk still in place and standing way, _way_ too close. "Thanks, babe! These guys were just showing me around, but maybe you'd be willing to take over as tour guide?" he asks hopefully.

"Ugh, reminds me of how Gar was with Terra," Jaime whispers to him, rolling his eyes disapprovingly.

Damian, for his part, has his eyes locked on their joined hands and is currently running through various ways he might be able to kill him without Kryptonite.

Heedless of the danger, Conner plows ahead. "I still need someone to show me my room...or maybe you can show me _your_ room? I'm not picky." He punctuates the offer with a light kiss on the top of her hand.

" _Dios mio,"_ Jaime groans. Damian can only stare in shock, before rage overtakes his surprise.

Raven's reaction is one of stunned silence, before she blushes heavily and pulls her hand free. " _Excuse_ me?"

It breaks his paralysis and he clears the room in a second, shoving the Kryptonian away forcefully.

_"Back. Off."_

He raises his hands disarmingly, an amused grin still fixed on his face, "Easy there, I'm just messing around."

Damian has never wanted to hit someone so badly in his life. And _that_ is saying something. He opens his mouth to respond but Raven beats him to it.

"It's...fine. I'd appreciate if you didn't do it again," her voice is low and calm once more, and it makes him somehow angrier.

_It is absolutely not fucking fine._

He looks back at her accusingly. She's pulled her hood up, but her color is still a bit elevated. Her eyes are locked on his and he can tell she wants him to calm down. He thinks defiantly that _calm_ is not a word currently in his vocabulary.

"Break it up," a firm voice interjects.

Superman is standing in the doorway, arms crossed and looking at the scene sternly.

"Took you long enough," Conner greets casually. "No worries, we're all just getting acquainted."

The older Kent's eyes dart between Robin and Superboy skeptically, realization dawning when he takes in Raven's flustered appearance.

He sighs in frustration, "Really, Kon-El?"

"I'm going to meditate elsewhere," the empath announces before vanishing into shadow, clearly eager to leave this awkwardness behind. Conner stares admiringly as the black magic dissipates, "Cool."

The older hero sighs again. "Starfire and Nightwing are on their way. Go wait outside."

"Sure thing, pops," he replies. "Nice to meet you guys," he adds for Damian and Jaime before jetting through the open door.

Superman turns to the two remaining Titans and at least has the decency to look embarrassed. "Lex let him get away with just about everything, so we're still working on his...social skills."

"Have you considered getting him fixed?" Damian hisses furiously.

"I know it's unacceptable, but he doesn't really mean anything by it. Just give him a chance. From what I recall, you haven't always been the best-behaved," he replies, looking pointedly at the Boy Wonder.

"He's got you there," Jaime mumbles.

 _Why is this getting turned around on me?_ Was he supposed to just _let_ that upjumped lab experiment get away with speaking to Raven that way?

He glares at both of them before shouldering roughly past Beetle and exiting the room.

* * *

Hours later and Damian's lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling, still simmering.

Beneath his anger is the tiniest seed of insecurity. Raven's dark blush keeps flashing across his mind and he wonders if she... _enjoyed_ the attention on some level. The more vocal, in-control part of himself demands to know why it matters and while he doesn't _exactly_ know the answer, he knows it really, _really_ does.

A light tap on his door interrupts his spiraling, and Titus's excited reaction tells him exactly who it is. His eyes narrow, unsure whether or not he wants to talk to her right now.

"What?" he snaps.

Raven lets herself in and the Great Dane is on her in an instant. He's told her repeatedly not to let him jump, but she always indulges him. She wrassles with him for a few moments, peppering his snout with kisses and cajoling him in soft baby tones before she moves forward and sits on the floor next to Damian's bed. Titus joins her, an adoring look on his furry face as she scratches behind his ears.

"It didn't mean anything. You shouldn't let yourself get so worked up," she tells him softly after a few minutes.

 _You shouldn't have told him it was fine. You should have blasted him through the wall_ , he wants to respond, but says nothing.

Somehow she knows anyways. "We're all going to have to live together, Damian. I was just trying to defuse the situation."

He stays quiet. She's right, but he hates it.

"I really appreciate you standing up for me."

He makes an irritated sound in the back of his throat. Raven falls silent for another few minutes, still absently petting Titus.

"Please don't be angry with me." She sounds exasperated and a bit of guilt creeps up on him.

"I'm not." His voice is terse, but he can't help it. Damian can feel her eyes on his profile, but keeps his own gaze locked on the ceiling. "I just don't want to have this conversation," he grumbles.

She sighs and cradles the dog's face. "What are we going to do with him, Titus?" He licks her cheek happily. "A walk you say? Get out of the Tower for a bit?"

Damian finally turns his eyes to her and she cocks her head expectantly. He lets out his own long-suffering sigh. "Fine."

Raven rolls her eyes before planting a kiss on Titus's nose, "Our poor, dramatic Damian, we torture him so much."

He's _never_ had a good sense of humor about himself, as anyone who's met him will readily attest, but the fond lilt in her voice and the possessive choice of words is too comforting for him to be upset.

Damian sits up slowly and plants his feet on the floor, the move instantly commanding Titus's attention. The Dane stands in front of him expectantly and starts wagging his tail furiously when his master reaches out to pat his head.

"Our Raven likes to exaggerate, doesn't she?"

The dog _whuffs_ in agreement, obliviously happy that he's getting so much attention.

Damian looks up and she's smiling in that warm, affectionate way that's reserved for him and he feels his worries start to evaporate.

Nonetheless, he makes a mental note to contact father later for some Kryptonite. Just to be safe.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fluff/comedy, with Beast Boy as a very misguided wingman. Hope you enjoy!

_They're way too hard on me,_ Gar thought, not for the first time. So what if he enjoyed a more vibrant social media presence than most? Branding is important for celebrities. Honestly, he found it weird how _averse_ his teammates were to the public eye. Was Robin really going to sit there and pretend he didn't like being the center of attention?

Which is why he was so proud of his latest idea. A prank series to help him share the spotlight with his teammates and bring joy and laughter to the masses at the same time.

_**Wassup BBnation? Starting the morning off right with some buttered toast and a buttered floor. #nobutseriouslyusemargarine #veganlife #bbpranks** _

With the camera running and phone propped up in place, Gar shifted into a hummingbird and darted up to perch on their ceiling light for a view of the mayhem. The graveyard patrollers would be back any second and he was jittery with anticipation.

As if on cue, the door slid open to admit Raven, Robin, and Blue Beetle. All three looked thoroughly exhausted, but more importantly, unsuspecting. In almost perfect unison, they stepped off of the floor mat onto the tile of the entryway.

The second she started to slide, Raven jumped up, levitating and yanking on Robin's arm to keep him upright. Beetle was less fortunate, feet kicking spastically for a few beats before landing on his back with a heavy _whump_.

_Damn, only one out of three!_

"What the hell?! " Jaime scrambled to his feet, struggling for traction on the greased up tiles and looking furious. Gar transformed into a hawk and swooped down to grab his phone.

"Watch your step, bug!" he announced cheerily before soaring through the still open doors, just barely dodging one of the Scarab's pincers.

* * *

His premiere video was a hit, _obviously_. People falling down will never not be funny, he had to explain to a fuming Jaime when he was cornered. Still, he wanted to keep things fresh and his next few entries into the prank series were equally well received.

First, he'd spiked Conner's gatorade with enough hot sauce to kill lesser mortals **(#superboyvssupersauce)** , knowing the clone could barely take anything spicier than ketchup (it was a Kent thing, someone had explained to him once). The unfortunate hero immediately spat the concoction out with enough force to catch Raven and Donna in the crossfire from across the training room. Sadly, they were not nearly as good-natured about it as Conner was.

Next, he swapped Joey's shampoo for pink hair dye just before he left for a visit with their Titan's East counterparts **(#onwednesdayswewearpink)**. Thus, he was stuck boarding their jet looking like he'd dunked his head in a vat of cotton candy. Even Damian had cracked a smirk at that one.

By popular request on Twitter, Raven was his target today. After much brainstorming (her powers seemed _uniquely_ suited to avoiding most pranks in his arsenal), he'd settled for an old classic: superglue.

Gar approached her carefully as she meditated in their common room, the last foot of her cloak pooled on the floor beneath her levitating form. When he was confident she was unaware of him, he pulled out the jar he'd nicked from Damian's locker (some kind of weapons grade bat-adhesive the Dark Knight developed to restrain metas) and doused the fabric liberally. He checked the time, setting a reminder to be back shortly and film her reaction.

Nearly an hour later, some of the other Titans were milling around nearby and Gar surreptitiously fired up the camera on his phone to catch the end of Raven's meditating. Violet eyes opened and she went to rise, only to fall back with an undignified huff when the bottom of her cloak held fast to the floor.

Her eyes found him instantly and she shot him a disdainful look before reaching up and unclasping the fastening around her neck. Sporting only her leotard _(hot damn does she wear that thing well!_ ) she walked casually to the kitchen to prepare her usual post-trance tea. Gar was bummed at her lack of reaction - honestly it was the most important part of the prank - and this wasn't shaping up to be usable for his series. Except…

Jaime was stealing glances between each bite of his sandwich, following her movements through their kitchen.

Conner was staring discreetly over the spine of his magazine, pale eyes trailing up and down her figure.

Poor, young Wallace clearly didn't know better than to openly ogle her, so that was his contribution to the scene.

She ignored all of them, stubbornly sticking to her normal routine as if she wasn't wearing skin tight material that left about as much to the imagination as bodypaint.

She leaned up to reach a high shelf, the move recorded by no less than four pairs of eyes and one high-def cell phone camera, before tsking in annoyance.

"We're out of honey."

"I'll go get you some," Conner said quickly, jumping up.

"No! I'll do it Rae, I'm faster," Wallace argued, racing away in a….well, _flash._

Raven blinked in confusion, "...thank you?" She said to the spot where the speedster had been.

"Is there anything else you need?" Conner asked, smiling at her and blushing lightly.

She eyed him oddly, "No, I'm all set."

"Well, um, just let me know, babe."

She nodded noncommittally before leaning back against the counter. Awkward silence reigned for a few moments and Raven tugged absently at the hem of her leotard.

The scarab suddenly let out a series of loud chirps, causing the three boys to jump in unison. Gar reluctantly tore his eyes away from the mage to see Jaime had turned beet red and was looking pointedly at the floor.

"What?! No! Just shut up!" He snapped at the bug. It let out a few final trills before falling silent and Jaime buried his face in his hands, thoroughly flustered.

"What'd I miss?" Wallace was back, standing in front of Raven with a huge grin and holding out a teddy bear container full of honey. Conner scowled at him.

Raven glanced around at them, looking equal parts annoyed and confused. "What's _with_ all of you?"

"Huh? Nothing wrong with me, Rae," the boy in front of her said eagerly, "I was gonna ask though, are you doing anything this Friday? There's a new movie comi-"

"What the hell is going on?"

Robin and Wonder Girl stood in the doorway, having just gotten back from morning patrol. The Amazonian just looked confused, while Damian looked even more homicidal than usual. There was tension in his stride as he crossed the room, and Gar had to give Raven credit that even the unflappable Boy Wonder seemed affected by her attire.

"What happened to your cloak?" he demanded.

Raven's eyes darted to Gar's and narrowed, " _Someone_ thought it would be funny to glue it to the floor."

It was actually impressive how much he could feel the glare through that domino mask. The changeling pretended to play on his phone innocently as the camera kept rolling. Damian cleared his throat and looked back towards the witch.

"Conjure yourself another one, or something," he said quietly.

"What?"

"Another cloak...you're...distracting," he finished uncomfortably.

Realization crashed across her pretty features in that second and she turned an alarming shade of red as she glanced at her other male teammates, all of whom were now pretending to ignore her. She jumped to hide herself behind Robin with a squeak. _Holy hell! Rae just squeaked!_ _And it's on camera!_

* * *

It was his most popular installment to date **(#ravensanscloak)** , and Gar felt a flush of pride. Hey, sex sells. Plus, it turns out he wasn't the only one who enjoyed seeing mysterious, composed Raven so frazzled.

One downside - he had a compulsive need to keep raising the stakes and was a bit lost as to where to go from here. He knew he still needed to get Damian, considering he had been unscathed so far, but it had to be _good._

* * *

_Ingenious, if I do say so myself!_

Gar checked the lines one last time before settling back into position, feeling proud of himself. The entire hallway had been transformed into a giant slingshot, at the center of which was a massive balloon filled to bursting with glitter. Smiling to himself, he yanked the band back around it's hook and hovered his hand over the release.

Robin rounded the corner a few minutes later, stopping immediately at the sight before him. Through the mask, Gar could see his eyes follow the line of taut wires back to the slingshot. His jaw twitched and he fixed the shapeshifter with a challenging glare.

"Well?" he asked in a voice full of violent promises.

He paused, despite himself. As much as he wanted to take Damian down a peg, maybe he'd be better off saving this one for Conner or Wallace. Or really anyone who hasn't _actually_ murdered people before. That hesitation was apparently all the Boy Wonder needed, as he continued walking and shouldered past Gar with a disdainful look.

_Crap. Should have gone for it._

Any additional regrets were interrupted when a tiny birdarang suddenly whirled back towards him and punctured the balloon in its cradle. A loud _pop_ and one enormous cloud of glitter later, and it was officially _on._

* * *

Turning into the tiniest spider in his collection, Gar crept under Damian's bedroom door. To get the best revenge possible, some sleuthing was in order.

Skittering his way up into a shadowy corner, he morphed to a dragonfly, needing better vision for his recon. Kaleidoscopic eyes took inventory of the Boy Wonder's living space. Unsurprisingly, everything was meticulously neat and spartan. No posters, no trinkets, no _TV?_ God, he was boring.

Damian himself sat cross-legged on his bed, notebook in hand and writing, wait _sketching?_ Gar had no idea he was into art. Maybe he could find a way to use that.

Someone tapped gently on the door and Gar saw the corner of Damian's mouth quirk up ever so slightly. Not a smirk, an actual genuine smile. _Weird._

The door slid open and Raven entered in her civvies, sporting her own smile. Seeing Damian happy was freaky enough, but now he was really starting to feel nervous. _What exactly have I gotten myself into?_

The empath padded over to the bed, sliding in behind Damian and wrapping her arms around his middle. He leaned back into her slightly, but kept working on his sketch. Raven looked over his shoulder curiously before planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Pay attention to me," she murmured, planting another on his neck.

"Needy," he replied fondly, clicking his tongue and turning his head to kiss her on the cheek, "Let me finish this, beloved."

_'Beloved'? What a sap! Also, what the fuck is going on?_

Gar would have never guessed either of them were capable of feeling anything non-platonic for well, _anyone_. And as amazingly well as Raven filled out that leotard of hers, his running theory for years was that she was asexual. Clearly he was off-base, judging by the hickey she was working onto Damian's neck.

Raven pulled away from his skin and hummed, hands trailing down the front of his torso, "How much longer?"

"Not much, as long as you stop trying to distract me."

"Me? _Distracting?"_ With that, her hands fell to his belt and began to undo it and her lips were on his neck again.

 _HolyshitIgottagetoutofhere!_ Gar switched into a regular housefly and jetted back towards the door, pretending with everything that he didn't see Damian pinning the delighted witch beneath him with his panoramic vision as he reverted back to a spider and fled the room and planning various ways in which he could blind himself.

* * *

"Dude, Jaime! I just found out-I mean, I just saw-Agh! Raven and Damian are totally together! And they're like _not_ asexual at all!" he finally managed to get out, gesticulating wildly.

His teammate eyed him oddly, "Yeah? And?"

"What? You _knew?"_

"My room is right next to Damian's. I know more about it than I ever wanted to," he dropped his eyes back to his laptop and started typing, "Why do you think your stunt the other day was so fucking awkward?" He muttered irritably.

Gar just blinked, mind blown, "Wait, does _everyone_ know besides me?"

Jaime shrugged, "Everyone kinda suspects. Good luck getting either of them to admit to it, though."

The changeling just shook his head, still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that _Damian_ and _Raven_ were fooling around behind everyone's back. He was half-tempted to out them at dinner for a laugh (of course he didn't exactly want to explain how he knew - he wasn't suicidal), and then a bolt from Olympus struck.

He recalled how angry and uncomfortable Damian was in the kitchen the other day. _Of course he's the jealous type_. So, all he had to do was ignite a little public jealousy, and everyone would realize what cute little lovebirds they were.

* * *

_**Alright, BBnation! Coming at ya with a homework assignment.** _

_**Turns out Raven is on the prowl and a sucker for romantic gestures. Any stans out there wanna win her heart?** _

_**#blackbirdchallenge #bbpranks** _

It had only been up for an hour when Conner found him hanging in the living room. He held out his phone screen with the tweet pulled up.

"You _have_ to know this is going to blow up in your face," he said, brow raised.

"I'm just trying to help her love life. Watch, she'll thank me," he replied with a confident smile.

Conner looked at him like he was insane. "By siccing a bunch of desperate losers on her? She's going to kill you when she finds out."

" _Or_ she'll meet Mr. Right, who was finally brave enough to approach thanks to yours truly."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm just here so I can say 'I told you so' later."

Gar's retort was cut off when their communicators went off in sync and Kori's voice erupted from the speakers. "Uncontained fire near Ace Chemical Plant. Titans, go!"

* * *

"Raven! You're beautiful!"

"Hey girl, how about dinner tonight? Whatever you like!"

"Raven! Over here, I love you!"

Gar did his best to keep his eyes covertly trained on the witch as she navigated the crowd to reach the rest of her teammates, looking progressively more confused at the amount of attention she was getting. Robin watched intently as well, clearly tense and annoyed. The changeling felt like kicking himself - how could he _not_ have noticed this earlier? They were _so_ obvious.

She reached them, looking uncomfortable, "Can we get out of here, already?" she asked Starfire.

"Just a while longer," the redhead replied apologetically, "I don't want any of you to leave until we've confirmed the fire marshal doesn't have any other questions."

Raven sighed, seeming to draw further back into her cloak.

"You do seem pretty popular today, Rae," the changeling offered lightly, "It couldn't hurt to engage a lil bit, I promise they don't bite," he goaded.

"Pass," she said quietly. Robin stood next to her, scowling at the crowd.

"Aw, don't be shy. Come on, just one fan."

She glared at him, but said nothing.

"Raven! Can my little sister get an autograph? Pretty please?"

Pressed up against the police tape was a teen who couldn't have been a day out of high school. He was smiling broadly and waving a notebook at her, a five or six year old girl propped up in his other arm.

Gar smiled, "Now how can you say no to that?"

With a long-suffering sigh, Raven moved towards the pair. "Fine. Just one autograph," she grumbled.

As she approached and reached for the notebook, the boy suddenly dropped it, clutching the empath's wrist and pulling her forward to plant a kiss directly on her lips.

"Mmph!"

_Oh, not good._

"You're dead!" Robin snarled.

In a second, he was at her side and Gar heard a loud snap and high-pitched shriek.

* * *

"A complete overreaction!" Kori yelled, looking about as angry as Gar had ever seen her. She was scolding a completely unrepentant Damian, who faced her onslaught with his arms crossed.

A muted TV with footage of the incident was on in the background, one spectator having filmed the encounter from behind and getting a _great_ angle of a Titan breaking a civilian's arm while he held onto a small child. From the furious look on his face as he did it, Gar wouldn't be surprised if that little girl had Robin-nightmares for the rest of her life.

"Hey now," he cut in weakly, "I think you're being too hard on him…" he trailed. He hadn't exactly come clean about his own part in this yet, and felt a stab of guilt at the lashing Damian was getting. Enough to stay behind while the rest of the team slunk out of the room, but not quite enough to confess.

"He broke his arm in _two_ places!" she snapped, "What that boy did was definitely wrong, but your response was entirely unjustified. The Titans exist to _protect_ the public, Damian."

The Boy Wonder just scoffed, before visibly tensing with his eyes locked on the screen, " _What the hell?!"_

Kori and Gar turned back to the TV, the latter instantly turning into a tortoise and retreating to his shell.

A screenshot of his blackbird challenge tweet was being broadcast. **TWITTER CHALLENGE GONE WRONG?** The chiron beneath it asked.

 _Do ya think?!_ The changeling thought miserably.

"Come out of there, Garfield," Kori said, sounding beleaguered.

"So I can kill you," Damian added venomously.

He somehow fought the urge to turn into an amoeba, deciding instead to try and plead his case from beneath a thick, Robin-proof shell.

"I know this is going to sound crazy, but I had only the best intentions."

"How does dangling Raven out in front of your followers like a piece of meat help anyone?"

"Explain yourself now," Kori added sternly.

"Fine! I was trying to make Damian jealous so he'd admit he's dating Raven."

There was a pause and Gar peeked out of his shell to see Kori staring at the Boy Wonder "...Are you?"

"It's none of your business."

She clasped her hands together excitedly and squealed. "I _knew_ it!"

Damian scowled at her before remembering the real source of his anger and glaring back towards him.

"Right, sorry," Kori composed herself and employed her most leader-ly voice. "What you did was unacceptable, Garfield. You put Raven in a terrible situation just to get a reaction out of Damian. You owe both of them an apology, _and_ the citizen you goaded into trying that little stunt. And you are _done_ with pranks. Am I understood?"

He nodded his scaly head miserably. "I really _am_ sorry. I didn't think anyone would take it that far."

"You're not sorry _yet_ , trust me," Damian promised, storming out.

* * *

Sure enough, an apology wasn't _quite_ enough to win his way back in either bird's good graces. It probably didn't help that the intensely private couple was now firmly in the spotlight, thanks to the video going viral and Robin suddenly earning the adoration of millions of women who couldn't get over how _romantic_ he was for snapping someone's arm like a glowstick. Overnight he became the poster child for the "relationship goals" meme.

To say Batman was none too happy with his son's new fame would be an understatement. To say Damian's siblings thought it was hilarious would also be an understatement.

Still, Dick was nice enough to let _both_ of them have at him during training the next day, so he was clearly sympathetic on some level. It was that day, after he'd practically been beaten into paste, when Conner stood over him and helpfully said, "I told you so."

It seemed to be getting a bit better with time. Damian still gave him murderous looks, but he was finally able to pass Raven in the hall without risking a portal to hell spontaneously appearing. A familiar thought echoed. _They're way too hard on me..._

Sighing to himself, he collapsed on their plush couch and pulled out his phone to scroll on Twitter. His prank series may be dead, but some other ideas to stay relevant were brewing and he wanted to throw a poll out to his followers. Only...

" _ **The email and password you entered did not match our records. Please double-check and try again."**_

Weird. He went to reset his password and felt a trickle of panic at the next message.

" _ **We couldn't find your account with that information."**_

 _Oh god, please no!_ Scrambling, he bypassed the login screen and tried to search himself. Nothing. No, wait - a trending hashtag for #RIPBBnation.

He stared uncomprehendingly at the screen for a moment before closing the app and trying his Instagram. Gone. _Oh come on!_ Snapchat. TikTok. _Even Pinterest!_

Eyes locked on his phone in horror, he didn't notice Robin had entered the room.

"Something wrong?"

He looked up, expression frenzied. "You deleted all my accounts?"

"Not just deleted. Red Robin and I made sure all of your content was permanently scoured. NSA couldn't retrieve it if they wanted to."

"Dude! I had all these pictures, memories, funny comments...this is just cruel," he begged.

"Make any new accounts and I'll do it again," he replied simply.

"I...but..I have rights! You can't do this to me! I'll see you in court...Geneva conventions!" he rambled shrilly before suddenly noticing Damian had his phone out, "...are you recording?"

He ignored him, tapping at his screen and pocketing the device. "Not bad. I suppose I understand how this sort of thing could be amusing." He turned on his heel to leave, "I'll see what my followers think, I'm fairly popular these days."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Distracting" is most definitely a code word for those two. Thanks to JT for beta-ing! Promise next chapter will be more sincere and angsty.


	14. Mini-update, Merry Christmas!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sequel to the Halloween mini-update, because why not? Figured I may as well have all the holiday chapters in the same continuity. Just as short, lame, and cheesy as it's predecessor - hope you enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not dead! Sorry for the long delays lately, been working through some things on my end. Next chapter is 90% done and will be up ASAP.

Raven was reclined on the couch, glazed eyes trained on the ceiling as she absently nibbled on a candy cane. Earlier she’d partaken in an absurd amount of spiked eggnog, peppermint schnapps cocoa, and he was  _ pretty _ sure she’d downed a bottle of wine with Donna when he wasn’t looking. Damian laid atop her, head on her chest and pushing tentatively at the hem of her short black dress. Though not as far gone as Raven, the alcohol had relaxed him immensely. A fire crackled merrily in the hearth, the only source of light and sound in his spacious, luxurious bedroom.

Damian’s hand skimmed higher, fingertips tracing her bare thigh in the soft, feathery way he knew she liked. The woman beneath him gave no reaction and he fought the urge to scowl. She had been pointedly ignoring him ever since he’d draped himself over her and this was  _ not _ how he wanted to spend the last few hours of Christmas.

He raised his head to look at her. “Raven.”

"Mm?" Dilated purple eyes found his, the long end of a candy cane still encased in her lips.

"I shouldn't have insulted your Santa hat. Happy?"

She shrugged lightly, gazing absently back up at the ceiling and working the striped candy between her red lips. Orange and red light from the fire shimmered across her pale skin, catching in the white faux fur of her cap so it looked like she was wearing a luminous crown.

"What if I told you that I actually  _ like _ the hat?"

She kept her eyes averted, violet orbs dark and hazy from drink. "I'd ask why you said it looked stupid earlier."

He’d never admit it if he were completely sober, but decided to be honest in hopes that she would start paying more attention to him. "Because," he grumbled irritably, "Jericho gave it to you."

The fact that their mute teammate had been present at all for the event was another sticking point.  _ We can’t invite everyone  _ but _ him, Damian,  _ the empath had explained patiently. Still, the fawning look in the other man’s eye as he pulled that stupid hat over her dark hair had Damian seeing red well into the evening. He reminded himself to be mad at Grayson as well for insisting on a party at Wayne Manor in the first place. Spending the holiday alone with Raven would have been a far superior time.

A teasing glint appeared in her eyes at his confession, the corner of her mouth lifting in a lopsided smirk. The candy cane slid wetly from between her lips, and he saw that her tongue had worked the end into a sharp spike. She tapped it contemplatively on her bottom lip as she regarded him. “Because Jericho gave it to me,” she repeated thoughtfully. “And...you’re jealous.”

“No.”  _ Yes. _ “Why would I be jealous when you’re in my room, on my couch,  _ under _ me?” he scoffed. 

“Don’t know,” Raven replied, slurring slightly. Her damnable smirk was still in place. “But you are.”

He glared at her, no response at the ready. She let him dangle there for a few seconds before rolling her eyes and popping the end of the candy cane back into her mouth. “So, you like the hat?” 

Her Santa hat was slightly crooked from the pillow beneath her head, some of her sleek hair mussed beneath the white cuff. It looked stupidly cute on her, even more so than it had during the party. His eyes trailed down the white puff where it laid on her exposed collarbone, nearly blending in with her ivory skin. Raven was looking at him expectantly. 

“Yes. I like the hat.”

She smiled shyly and he saw another question dancing behind her eyes. “Do you prefer me in the Santa hat or the angel costume?”

Damian couldn’t help his own smirk, recalling Halloween fondly and remembering the exact length of the short white dress she’d been forced into. That night had been their starting point, long buried feelings finally winning free from the ice-hold he kept around them. He decided to be honest again.

“I prefer you in nothing.”

He was instantly rewarded with a heavy blush and couldn’t help feeling triumphant. "Typical man," she muttered. With that, she tossed her treat to the side and gripped his tie to pull him up for a hungry kiss. The taste of peppermint and Raven flooded his senses, ten times more decadent than the two-hundred year old cognac he’d been enjoying earlier, and a million times more addicting. She was still blushing when they parted, cheeks almost as red as her hat.

He eyed her appreciatively as his hand found the hem of her dress again. “You  _ are _ very beautiful in nothing,” Damian said, pulling at the fabric meaningfully. “But you can keep the hat on, if you want.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had to drag this chapter kicking and screaming to the finish line, but I'm finally done! A gift for dreamwalker44 to thank her for the beautiful fanart she did for this fic (see: https://dreamwalker44.tumblr.com/post/635126596264755200/i-tend-to-draw-art-from-fics-so-it-was-only-a). This is a super fluffy one, even by my standards, and I hope you all enjoy it.
> 
> Also, thanks to JT for being an awesome beta and overall wonderful person whose kept me sane these past few weeks as I've struggled with writer's block and 'rona.

"Resentful" was a word used to describe him often. And as much as he hated the childish connotations it carried, it wasn't exactly _inaccurate._

Damian resented his grandfather for his utilitarian treatment of him, his mother for her constant manipulations, his father for the clear distrust in his eyes whenever he looked at him.

Even Grayson, who he had developed a grudging sort of affection for over these last few months, for being the clear favorite amongst all the children his father had taken in.

The only sounds in the room were the heavy impact of his fists on the punching bag and the rasp of leaking sand. His father and _sidekicks_ had gone out without him, with a promise Damian would be allowed to join them after he'd earned some trust. Nevermind that he'd been training since he was a toddler to fight crime and degeneracy. Nevermind that he'd come to Batman of his own accord to learn a better way. Nevermind that he'd vowed never to kill again. _Resentful._

Yet somewhere beneath the resentment, in a place he would never admit existed, Damian felt only a bitter loneliness. The same place where he felt empty and adrift in the shadow of his defection from Ra's Al Ghul and the Bat's lukewarm acceptance.

He was still unsure what drove him to this point, only knowing that he had awoken in Nanda Parbat one day with a fierce desire to leave, escape, find... _something_. Since that day, dreams had been calling to him nightly; sometimes horrifying and apocalyptic, sometimes soft and comforting. Their details slipped away within seconds of his waking, leaving only frustrated confusion in their wake.

Forcing the unpleasant emotions away, he turned from the punching bag to face some targets on the far wall, reaching for his pouch of knives.

After he'd exhausted himself, he retired to his room. His sketchbook was still sprawled out on the bed where he'd left it that morning and he approached it almost warily.

A charcoal drawing stared up at him, four slanted, feline eyes set in anger on a feminine profile. Damian wondered, not for the first time, whether he was going insane. But the image had been flashing in his mind for far too long to go undrawn, and he was never one to deny his instincts. He flipped the page back to his previous piece. She had only two eyes in this one, a small puppy encased in slender arms. Her delicate features and the curious expression on the animal's face were the only detailed aspects of the drawing, the rest of it had been amorphous and unformed in his mind's eye. There were pages and pages of her by now, and the next work was already brewing - he thought he saw her smiling at him, but something about the image was sad, her face drawn and pained in a way that was not reflected in anything he'd produced so far.

He reached for the book to get started when a rap on the door broke his musings.

"Hey Damian, family meeting in the cave."

_Grayson_. Dropping his hand and biting back a sigh, he turned to leave.

* * *

"There's news. The Watchtower is finally complete and ready for launch. I'd like you present at the unveiling." Batman's eyes flickered to Damian. "All of you."

He bristled. "Two months of imprisonment in this house and you let me out for a _ribbon cutting?_ "

"Yes," his father responded evenly. "I mean to demonstrate to the Justice League that you're one of us as the new Robin."

"Then let me go on patrol with you, send me on a mission, hell, _something_ with meaning."

"This has meaning, Damian," Dick cut in. "You being there shows that we trust you."

_Like hell you do_ , the thought echoed scornfully.

"There are a lot of heroes with checkered pasts. I will see to it that you are accepted," Batman said firmly.

The part of him that longed for his father's approval reared up, telling him to see this as a sign of progress.

"Fine."

"...And while we're on the subject," Tim started, "we were thinking you should join Young Justice."

"Why would I want to do that?" Any group that would put _Drake_ in charge was not one he cared to join.

"Learn teamwork, meet some other heroes, get out of the house, all that good stuff," he responded lightly.

"I have no interest whatsoever in those first two reasons. And even if I did, your troupe of misfits already has a Robin. If anything, I'd expect you to send me to the Titans."

" _No."_ Batman growled. "Not the Titans."

Dick shifted uncomfortably. "He has a point, Bruce. That team does traditionally have a Robin."

The white eyes of the cowl narrowed fiercely. "You know very well why that's not an option. I won't hear anything more on the subject."

Damian felt a twinge of curiosity. Grayson, Drake, and even Todd had all been Titans at one point. And while he wasn't exactly _interested_ in joining a team, his father's adamant refusal was...intriguing.

Bruce turned back to him. "Take some time to consider Tim's offer. The Watchtower launch is tomorrow evening."

* * *

_What a joke._

He glared around the bustling room, displeasure obvious even beneath his mask. All he had seen so far reinforced his impression of the Justice League as decadent, posturing fools. His grandfather would have been sickened.

All members had been required to attend, with invitations also extended to the Titans, Young Justice, and certain other heroes of promise. His father was hoping the resulting show of force would inspire fear in their enemies, but Damian worried about the opposite effect. The lack of discipline, particularly among the younger attendees, would be an encouraging sign to any serious foes.

Regardless, he kept his mouth shut. He felt uncharacteristically antsy since arriving, a voice in the back of his mind whispering that something was imminent. Paranoid, Damian's eyes swept the room compulsively for any signs of trouble - his assassin's instincts were rarely wrong.

As the newest in a neverending carousel of Robins, he drew curious glances from many of the other heroes. The older ones who knew his identity studied him mistrustfully, his recent defection to his father having done little to redeem the Grandson of the Demon in their eyes. _Many here would sooner have me in prison than in the Justice League_. He met each accusing gaze evenly, refusing to be ashamed of his past.

"You really should try and mingle," Dick sighed, appearing next to him.

"I have no interest in meeting any of these people."

"You'll never be able to shake the Al Ghul baggage unless you give them a chance to get to know you."

He scoffed. "I hardly care about their opinions. I didn't come here to win a popularity contest."

The older man shrugged. "No reason we need to do everything alone, is there? You _sure_ you don't want to sign up with Young Justice for a while? I heard Wonder Girl telling Tim she thinks you're cute," he teased.

Damian rolled his eyes, not bothering to dignify that with a response. He spotted Red Robin and the blonde Amazonian across the room, locked in conversation. As if one cue, they both looked back towards him and began to make their way over.

_Fucking great._

"Try not to behead them." Dick smiled, before leaving Damian's side and strolling towards a table where a tall redhead was waving him over.

"Damian, this is Cassie Sandsmark, our resident Wonder Girl," Tim introduced.

"Nice to meet you," she chirped, holding out her hand.

He glanced down at it before raising his eyes to glare at the two of them. "Is there something you want?"

Rather than be offended, the blonde just smiled. "He mentioned you were a little touchy. I guess I can't blame you given your background."

Something about her statement tasted like pity and his glare sharpened. "He should also have mentioned I have no interest in joining your little club."

Tim was looking at him exasperatedly, but Damian ignored him.

"That's a shame. Maybe we can just be _friends_ then?" she said, tossing him a flirtatious smile.

"I'm even _less_ interested in that," he replied, letting his contempt drip off each word. "Go preen at someone else."

She kept her smile, but Damian saw a touch of fire in her eyes and got the impression she wasn't used to being told 'no.' His aversion deepened. _She's just like the rest of them. High on the adoration of the masses._

"Sorry, Cassie," Tim sighed. "We're still working on his social skills."

"It's fine. Perhaps I was a bit too forward. Sorry, Damian," she said, not sounding the least bit sorry.

"Tt." He stepped around them, intent on finding a more isolated corner of the room to occupy while he waited for the night to end.

Damian walked slowly along the large bay window that bordered the room, gazing absently at the darkening sky and twinkling lights of the city. They were nearing the designated launch time for the Watchtower, and he was starting to feel impatient.

He stopped when his circuit took him to a view of the harbor, letting himself enjoy the flashes of sunlight flitting across the water. The waters of Gotham were perpetually dark and murky, but the natural beauty here almost reminded him of Infinity Island.

Something moved in his peripherals, and Damian realized he wasn't alone in appreciating the scene. A cloaked and hooded figure was leaning against a nearby pillar, dark attire contrasting with the pale steel. The prickling sense in his mind suddenly kicked up, and he appraised her suspiciously.

Petite. Likely a meta given how impractical her clothes were for hand-to-hand combat and the mystic-looking red orbs that adorned them. The upper part of her face was completely obscured by her hood, but he made note of her pale skin and the delicate line of her jaw. She seemed...familiar. Perhaps he'd seen a dossier at some point.

He took further inventory of their surroundings and saw a couple heroes throwing curious, uneasy glances in their direction. Judging by the way eyes darted between them, it seemed he wasn't the only person here that made people nervous. He gave the woman another once over.

Despite the odd sensations she stirred and the wide berth she'd been granted, she didn't _seem_ dangerous. And the fact that she had so far made no move to look at or speak with him made her the least objectionable person in the room as far as he was concerned. Perhaps the ability to repel unwanted company was part of her meta abilities. _Lucky_.

Satisfied with his rationalizations, he disregarded her and turned to the window again. Several minutes passed in silence, Damian's mind wandering back to the day he left his grandfather and wondering _again_ just what had come over him. It didn't help that he'd only grown angrier and snappier these last two months, which hadn't exactly endeared him to his new family.

" _There_ you are, brat," Tim's voice announced behind him. "Look, I know Cassie can be a bit much, but you need to - oh...hey Raven."

The older man sounded notably uncomfortable, prompting Damian to glance back. He was looking nervously past him towards the figure leaning on the pillar.

"Red Robin," she responded neutrally.

Damian was once again struck by how _familiar_ she was. His mind raced for an explanation and part of him wanted to demand answers from her. A desire to pull down her hood coursed through him without warning.

"I didn't think you'd be here," he went on, oblivious to his brother's state.

She shrugged lightly. "I _am_ a Titan."

Her voice was still calm, but Damian could see tension in the line of her shoulders. He glared at Tim, silently willing him to leave them be.

"O-of course," he stammered. "You're totally welcome here."

_Tt. Good save, Drake._

Somehow, even beneath her hood, he knew she was rolling her eyes.

"Thanks," she replied dryly.

Tim turned back to Damian, frowning at his harsh glare. "Anyways...um. Why don't you come watch the launch from the observation deck?" he tried, nodding towards Raven in a way that made it clear he didn't want to leave him with her.

"I'm fine where I am," Damian responded irritably. He did _not_ need Drake telling him who he could and couldn't associate with just because he was too weak to withstand her strange aura.

The look on the older man's face was exasperated, but he just shook his head and began to walk away. "Suit yourself."

Damian turned his eyes back out towards the sea. The light was all but gone and the water was a deep black. He could feel her stare on him, but fought the urge to meet her gaze.

"Do I know you?" Her voice was low and soft, and Damian felt his heart stutter. What _was_ this?

"No," he replied, despite the fact he wasn't actually _sure_ about that answer.

She said nothing else, and in his peripherals he saw her settle back against the pillar, the weight of her stare now elsewhere. The floor began to vibrate beneath their feet as the Watchtower powered up for its maiden voyage. _Finally._

Light from the burning jets suffused the room as they began to take flight, and Damian took the opportunity to glance over at Raven, her face now fully visible in the glow.

_(. . . Damian, please listen . . .believe me, I know my demons . . .said you wouldn't, you promised. . .I love you. . .)_

The soft, disembodied voice echoed through his mind, accompanied by half-formed images and sensations. Through them all he could only form one coherent thought.

_I've missed you so much._

Some faraway, rational part of his mind was demanding to know how he could miss someone he'd never met, but he ignored it and continued to openly stare. _Raven._

She met his eyes suddenly, nervousness shining in her amethyst orbs as she picked up on his emotions. She always did know what he was feeling. _Wait, what?_

"Who are you?" Raven whispered, taking a small step towards him. He mimicked her, closing the gap between them and reaching for her hand. In an ancient act of muscle memory, their fingers laced together. Even through his gloves, her skin was as warm as he remembered. Her eyes fluttered shut and he rested his forehead to hers.

"Damian," she sighed. Hearing her say his name spurred another series of hazy memories.

_(. . .she stays here!. . .his name is Titus. . .I had feelings for you. . .save them, save her. . .)_

" _Habibti. Laqad aishtaqat 'iilayk_ ," he replied, barely noticing he'd slipped into his mother tongue.

She relaxed against him, soft and pliant. _I've been drawing you. I didn't forget, beloved. I promise._ Foreign emotions raced through his mind, overpowering the logical, confused thoughts that were trying to burst free. He didn't know how he knew her, just that he did, and that for the first time in months he didn't feel so bitterly alone.

A hand wrenched him roughly away by the shoulder, and instant distress speared through him at the loss of her warmth. Damian looked back angrily to see his father's furious countenance.

"What did you do?" Batman demanded, glaring at Raven.

She took an instinctive step back in the face of his rage, eyes darting around at the small audience that had taken note of their private moment. Dick was staring at Damian worriedly, but the majority of wary gazes were fixed on Raven.

"Nothing. I didn't do anything," she replied, straightening.

"She didn't," Damian snapped, pulling away from the grip on his shoulder and standing in front of her.

Batman turned to his other two sons. "Take Robin home. Now."

_No!_ "I'm not going anywhere."

"You're being controlled," he replied, fixing Raven with a hard look.

Before Damian could respond, a redheaded heroine surged through the crowd to Raven's side, wrapping an arm around her and exuding protectiveness.

"That's enough," she said firmly, glaring at Batman.

"Get her out of here, Starfire," he replied coldly. "You should have known better."

"She's a Titan," the woman argued fearlessly.

"I'll go," Raven said softly.

Damian turned to look at her, seeing the pain behind her carefully blank expression. His body thrummed in response, wanting to go to her as badly as he'd ever wanted anything.

"Goodbye." She favored him with a small, sad smile before black energy suffused her and she vanished.

* * *

Back in the cave, his father was furious, Dick was worried, and Tim was clearly uncomfortable.

"Bruce, I don't think-" Dick started.

"I don't want to hear it. Whether or not she knew what she was doing, we can't let this go on any longer."

"So what are you going to do? Get Superman to throw her off the planet?" he shot back exasperatedly.

Damian watched the exchange silently, finally able to think clearly now that she was no longer in his presence. His memory still felt fragmented, and he clung fiercely to the distant words and images she'd conjured, trying to make sense of things.

"For now she needs to be taken into custody. There must be some way to send her back where she came from," Batman said firmly.

"For _what?!_ Flirting with Damian?"

His jaw twitched in annoyance, but he held his silence and studied his father's face. The Bat was as tense as he'd ever seen. "Raven was clearly manipulating him with her empathic ability. I don't know why, but we can't risk him getting wrapped up in this." As if he just remembered Damian was there, he turned towards his youngest son. "Do you know why she was after you?"

He ignored the question. "Tell me about her."

White eyes narrowed. "Her father is an interdimensional demon and she is his portal to conquer Earth. She has some magical abilities, as you saw, but we're not entirely certain what all she's capable of. Raven showed up a few months ago and tried to infiltrate the Justice League before Zatanna made us aware of her heritage."

"Infiltrate," Dick snorted. "She came to you for _help._ "

"You're too close to this, Dick. Your feelings for Starfire are clouding your judgement."

The former Robin tensed angrily. "Since when do you, of all people, judge someone for their blood? Did you forget that Damian is an Al Ghul? Don't even _think_ of lecturing me."

"Damian…" Tim interrupted, "one of Raven's abilities that we _do_ know of is sensing and controlling emotions. It's the reason I was nervous about leaving you with her."

"I gathered."

"I think she might have been using you to get back at Batman and the League for refusing her."

A tiny seed of doubt took root in Damian's mind. _What's more likely? Leftover feelings from a past life, or a demon toying with me to get revenge on father?_

_No._ Just the thought felt wrong. He'd been drawing her for weeks, he- _wait._ "You said she came to Earth a few months ago?"

"Shortly before you arrived here."

_She's been calling to me ever since she arrived. Before I even became Robin._ And he decided in that second he would ask her why himself.

Damian excused himself with surprisingly little difficulty, the sounds of Grayson and father's arguments following him out of the cave. _I'll have to disable the lo-jack in the Batwing_. Batman would no doubt suspect where he'd gone, but there was no reason to make it easy on him. He reached his room and began packing lightly, stopping again to stare at his sketchbook. _Demonic heritage explains the extra eyes._ Having seen her again, his drawings felt woefully inadequate. Pausing for only a moment, he swept the book into his bag.

* * *

She hadn't left her room since returning to the Tower the previous day, too afraid to face any of her teammates.. _What must they be thinking?_

Raven wasn't even sure how _she_ felt about this whole thing. One moment she'd been minding her own business, waiting impatiently to escape the hostile and unwelcoming emotions that surrounded her in the Watchtower, the next _he_ was there, his familiar aura practically screaming at her. _Damian._ He had drawn her to him like a moth to a flame. And everyone had seen them, hands entwined, pressed together. She flushed at the memory.

Gar had tried twice to cajole her out of her room, his powerful curiosity burning behind her metal door. Jaime had knocked lightly, wanting to make sure she was alright. Joseph hadn't knocked, but she sensed him standing outside her door for a long while - a mess of confused and hurt emotions roiling behind his mental walls. Kori was the last _(she had to clean up your mess, remember?)_ and refused to leave until Raven had to admit her, terrified that she'd tried the alien's patience for the last time and would finally be sent away.

The second the door opened, the Titans' leader wrapped her in a fierce hug. "I'm so sorry, Raven."

Relief and confusion washed over her. "Why are _you_ sorry? I'm the one who…" _Who cuddled up to the son of the Bat in front of the entire Justice League,_ she couldn't bring herself to say. Kori knew anyways.

"As if he was complaining," the redhead scoffed. "You shouldn't have been treated that way."

Raven pulled away from the embrace slowly, before turning and crossing her arms. "I told you it was a bad idea."

"Perhaps I shouldn't have made you go," she conceded tentatively. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"It's nothing. I'm used to it." Raven had meant for that to reassure Kori and help with the suffocating guilt that was pouring off of her, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. "It's fine, really," she tried again.

She frowned at that, but pressed no further and the look in her eyes suddenly took on an interested glint. "So. The new Robin seems to like you. What's that about?"

Raven sighed, completely lost on how to answer. _Past life? Soulmate? I'm completely losing my mind?_ If it was the last one, at least she wasn't alone. Whatever it was clearly affected them both.

"It's complicated," she settled on.

Kori raised an eyebrow, clearly hoping for a juicier answer. When none came, the Tamaranean rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "Well, Dick told me a bit about him. Sounds like he's a handful."

She shrugged, uncomfortable with this conversation. It was all a moot point - even as they spoke, Batman was surely taking measures to ensure she was never in the same room as his son again. He'd probably already told him about Trigon and the thought caused her heart to twist painfully. _What will you think, Damian? Will you revile me with all the rest when he tells you what I am?_ She glanced back to Kori.

"I'm exhausted. I think I'm going to get some sleep."

"It's only four o'clock. And you haven't eaten anything."

"I know. I promise I'll come down tomorrow. I just...I just want to be alone for now."

Kori didn't look happy, but nodded all the same and stood to leave. "I want you to know that everything's going to be fine. I'll handle things with the Justice League and they'll leave you alone."

Affection rushed through her and she smiled up at the tall redhead. The first true friend she'd ever had. "Thank you, Kori."

* * *

Raven fell into a dreamless sleep almost the moment her head hit the pillow, and it was hours later when a gust of cool air woke her. Lilac eyes opened slowly, and she was instantly aware of him.

She sat up and faced the dark figure at the end of her bed, not the least bit afraid. Damian wore plain black clothes in place of his Robin uniform and he was unmasked. For a moment she just stared, memorizing, _re-memorizing,_ every detail. After a moment, she snapped her eyes shut and tried to regain her composure.

"You shouldn't be here."

"I know."

She swallowed, already completely overwhelmed by his presence. "If Batman or the League finds-"

"You're not using your powers on me," he interrupted.

Raven glared. "No, I'm not. Whatever you and all the others _think_ you know about me, I'm not a monster."

He studied her for a moment, green eyes searching her face with an intensity she felt in her bones.

"I know a lot about you, actually." His voice had dropped and her heart started pounding, every instinct in her wanting him closer.

_(...when you were in my head, I could see things about you too…)_ She ignored the voice and hid her unease with a disbelieving huff. "Like what?"

"You don't like the cold, do you?"

"Most people don't."

"You have a sweet tooth."

"A lot of people do."

He snorted. "You're not always this difficult."

" _You_ are." She stared at him challengingly, tempted to keep arguing for the sake of it. He didn't give her the chance.

"You hate weddings...they make you think of your mother." _(...they decided to do the classic bride of Satan rite…)_

That she had no answer for. It was true, and something she'd never confessed to anyone.

"You look beautiful in white."

He stopped then, staring at her expectantly, head cocked ever so slightly. She had to remind herself to breathe. "You shouldn't be here," she repeated.

He ignored her. "I know more about you every second I'm standing here. What I don't know is why or how."

"I don't know either." Raven was fighting off her own onslaught of memories and impulses. Azar, she needed to meditate - this was too much. He was too much. He always had been - _No! Stop it!_ She buried her face in her hands.

"Raven." His voice was closer now, but she refused to look up.

"Please just go." _(...just stay away from me, okay?...)_

A hand rested gently on her shoulder and it felt infuriatingly familiar. She forced herself to breathe, trying and failing to tamp down on her rampant emotions. He was _not_ helping, his own internal tempest feeding hers like a wildfire.

"You feel it too. We have to talk about this."

_Azar, he's stubborn._ She dropped her hands and looked up at him. He was standing right next to her bed and she thought she saw some remorse in those emerald eyes. More than anything, his hand was warm on her bare shoulder, the strap of her tank having slipped off at some point during the night.

"I told you," she started, trying not to get swept away, "I don't _know_ what this is."

"You're a bad liar." He smirked. "I only learned that just now, though."

She closed her eyes, mentally chanting her mantra to regain control. It didn't help, especially when he sat next to her on the mattress, his maddeningly warm and familiar hand still on her shoulder. "What do you want from me," she sighed.

"You're an empath and you know magic. Look into my mind and tell me why I feel this way."

Her eyes snapped back to his in a second as she struggled for an answer. "It...doesn't work exactly like that. I can unlock certain...feelings...maybe some memories, but-"

He gripped her wrists suddenly and her voice died. He lifted her hands tentatively to his face, sharp green eyes locked on hers all the while. "Please."

She instinctively knew from the way he said that word that it was a rare one. And again, instinctively, she couldn't refuse him. "Okay," she whispered.

Raven slid her hands up cautiously, focused keenly on his emotions in case he decided to pull away and run. He held steady, eyes shutting halfway as her fingertips laid gently on his temple. She studied him for another moment to make sure it was alright, and her hands started to glow.

They both inhaled sharply at the onslaught of emotions. As she'd told him, she wasn't able to conjure any detailed images or memories, only hazy visions and the feelings associated with them. And _oh,_ how she had loved this man. Whatever their life had been wasn't always easy - grief and horror featured heavily towards the end, but through it all he shone like a beacon for her.

It was ending. There was a final impression of a blinding light, and so, _so_ much love and pain. _We're dying_ , she realized distantly. Was it Trigon? Had she doomed him in her past life only to do so again this time? _Never, I'll die first._ She thought she felt his hand on her waist, her own on his cheek, the sensation of their lips meeting. Raven was so wrapped up that final burst of emotion she didn't realize right away that he was kissing her in the present. The realization electrified her, and as wonderful as it felt, she wondered if she should push him away. _We don't even know each other,_ some part of her was saying, but it was a coward's voice, a liar's voice. Damian must have felt or heard it through her magic, his lips brushing hers as he drew back and gave answer.

"Our souls know each other," he whispered. "It's just our bodies that are new."

* * *

The night passed in a slow blur, confessions muttered in dead and foreign languages, tentative touches that turned bold and exploratory. Clothing rumpled beneath eager hands before being discarded on the floor, where it belonged. Through it, Damian caught himself thinking again and again how much he'd missed her - a depraved mantra in his mind.

In a scorned, wasted second where he wasn't kissing her, she murmured nervously about the trouble this was going to cause.

"I know," he responded quietly. She was so warm and soft under him it was hard to think coherently. "It's worth it." Raven had given a shuddering sigh beneath him, sharp nails biting into his skin.

He was still awake when the room started to lighten, and aggravation coursed through him at the realization he would have to leave soon. Damian forced himself into an analytical mindset - the sooner he found a way to make his father understand, the sooner he could return. He rested his cheek against the crown of her head, ideas falling into place amid the scent of sin and lavender. Raven stirred against him, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder and inhaling deeply before tilting her head up to look at him. Her blue-black hair flowed down her back like a river, heavily disheveled, but as glossy as ever. Realization struck as he toyed with some of the silky strands.

"What is it?" she asked, voice husky with the morning.

"Your hair is much longer this time," he replied absently, thinking of his sketches.

"Mm," she acknowledged, dropping her head back down. "Do you like it better this way?"

"Either or." _Although there's more to hold onto now._ He forced the thought away, not wanting to get distracted.

"I need to leave soon, but I won't be long," he said, changing the subject.

She huffed in disbelief, pressing harder against him. "As if Batman's _not_ going to lock you in a tower when he finds out. Or maybe it'll be me."

He frowned. "Giving up, beloved?"

She was quiet for a moment. "Being realistic."

Damian sat up slowly, shifting them and reaching to retrieve his bag from the floor. Raven was looking at him curiously, wan smile on her face.

He worked his sketchbook free and held it out to her, feeling oddly nervous despite all they'd already done and said up to that point. She took it and waited until he had settled back against her before flipping open the cover.

The drawings were in no particular chronological order, showing her throughout adolescence and in a variety of moods. She lingered on the one with the puppy, tracing the lines with her fingertips and staring for several minutes before moving on to the final page. Raven stilled instantly when she saw the four eyes looking up at her, and she looked away self-consciously before snapping the book shut.

"Sometimes I think you remember better than I do," she mumbled. "How long have you been drawing me?"

"Since you got to Earth, before I knew you existed. It's going to take a lot more than the Justice League to keep you from me now."

Raven gripped the book in her hands tightly and beneath her carefully neutral expression he could see her conflict. She _wanted_ to believe, but didn't. Damian ran his hand affectionately against her cheek before sliding out of bed and beginning to dress.

"Besides, my father's more reasonable than he seems. Just trust me."

* * *

Bruce's face was a mask of quiet fury when he returned, and his expression only turned colder when Damian informed him in no uncertain terms that he would be joining the Titans.

"I cleared it with Starfire this morning," he finished. The Tamaranean had been...nonplussed at his presence in the Tower earlier, but agreed to his request readily enough. _The Titans need a Robin, after all._ For a moment, the only sound in the cave was the fading whir of the Batwing's engine as they regarded each other.

Finally, he sighed. "Zatanna is upstairs. At least let her confirm Raven's not using her magic on you."

Damian nodded curtly. If this would put the Bat's mind at ease, let them be together, he would allow it.

Father and son entered the oversized parlor together. Drake was also there, eyes bright with curiosity. Grayson just threw him a knowing wink when no one else was looking. Clearly, Koriand'r had already brought him into the loop.

The magician was standing near the room's immense fireplace and toying with a still full wine glass, anxiety and suspicion evident in her every motion. "Damian," she greeted. "I'm glad you're alright." He fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"Let's just get this over with."

She eyed him flatly before clearing the room and laying her right hand on the crown of his head. Zatanna's eyes flashed with magic and she murmured lowly to herself as energy washed through him. It felt horrifically invasive compared to his experience with Raven and he had to fight the urge to pull away. It lasted for what felt like an eternity before he felt her start to withdraw and they were finally separated.

"Zatanna?" his father asked.

"He's fine, Bruce," she said absently, seeming lost in thought.

"Wait," Tim said confusedly, "if she's not controlling his emotions then why?...how?..."

"Mind your own business, Drake,' Damian snapped.

"I don't know," Zatanna replied, expression still conflicted.

"Ever heard of true love, Timbo?" Dick offered, clearly enjoying himself.

Damian was silent, pressing a hand to his forehead to try and ward off the unpleasant after effects of Zatanna's investigation. He glanced back at his father, whose face may as well have been made of stone for all it conveyed.

"I may have been too hasty," Zatanna muttered, and he was unable to tell if she was talking to herself before sharp blue eyes found his. "This thing with her father, _Trigon,_...I'll see what Constantine and I can do to help. And...I'm sorry." He was suddenly paranoid about what she may have seen or felt while poking around his mind

The magician's comment had softened Bruce's countenance slightly. "You're certain?" he asked her.

"Yes."

He turned to Damian. "And _you're_ certain this is what you want? You made it clear you weren't interested in joining a team."

_I'm still not,_ he almost said before biting back the response. "I'm certain."

With a nod and a gesture to Zatanna, the older heroes left the room. No doubt so he could be fully debriefed on what was floating around in Damian's head. The younger man sighed in irritation before a chipper voice distracted him.

"So, we have a new Titan to celebrate." Dick was grinning broadly.

Damian tsked. "I suppose."

"So, you getting your own room at the Tower or just gonna skip the formalities and move into Raven's?" he asked with a teasing smirk.

"Raven's."

Dick's smirk slid right off his face, dumb surprise taking over. "I was _joking_. Wait, did you actually...sleep over last night? What ever happened to dinner and a movie first?"

Damian just shrugged, already tired of this conversation. "What do you care?"

Tim cleared his throat awkwardly. "Moving a little fast there, demonspawn. After that thing with Cassie the other day I wasn't even sure you liked women."

He rolled his eyes. "Thanks for chiming in, Drake. Fascinating opinions all around." Damian turned to leave, irritation quickly being replaced by pleasant surprise at how smoothly things had gone, and an odd gratitude towards Zatanna. He wondered how soon it would be before he could bring Raven to the manor.

* * *

_One year later_

The Secret Sanctuary's briefing room was much larger than the Tower's, taking up almost an entire floor of the fortress. She scanned the area curiously, smiling in acknowledgement when M'Gann waved at her from across the room. Despite Beast Boy's near constant reminders about how _weird_ everyone thought they were, they had received a warm enough reception from the members of Young Justice. The two of them were on loan for a mission in Kahndaq, recommended by Batman thanks to Damian's linguistic skills and her wealth of magical knowledge.

Since their "reunion" a year ago rumors about them spread like wildfire, fueled by retellings of their strange behavior at the Watchtower and Damian's sudden move into not only Titan's Tower, but to Raven's bedroom (Turns out most heroes were _shameless_ gossips). It barely bothered them. Too much of their previous lives had been wasted apart from each other, and they refused to make the same mistake again.

Meeting his family had been the most awkward, but awkward was miles better than what she ever expected. Tim studied them like bugs in a jar when he thought she wasn't looking, and Bruce oscillated between cordial billionaire to wary vigilante hard enough to give her empathic whiplash. Jason had been the one with the most upfront approach, faking a handshake before ripping down her hood and ordering her to blink twice if she had been kidnapped. When she answered in the negative Jason winked and asked if she wanted to be, and he and Damian nearly came to blows. Dick had just shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably and apologized for everyone.

She came back to the present as the briefing began, both her and Damian standing close in the back of the room. As the plan was laid out, she felt a touch of hostility and looked over to find Wonder Girl giving her a hard sidelong glance from a few yards away. The blonde snapped forward again when their eyes met, but Raven could still feel...resentment? Indignance? _Whatever_ it was came off her in waves. She frowned, forcing herself to put the mystery away for later.

"We start at 0500 tomorrow, so don't stay up too late," Tim was finishing up.

Without a word, Wonder Girl turned on her heel and walked from the room, hard blue eyes catching the empath's once more before she was gone.

She told Damian about it later in hushed tones as they sat outside on the beach. The Atlantic was as pretty as the Pacific in its own way, and it was nice to get away from the odd looks and stifling atmosphere of the Sanctuary. "She _really_ doesn't seem to like me," Raven said, her head on his shoulder.

"Then you're doing something right, beloved," he responded dismissively, hand sliding up her back to feel for the zipper on her leotard. She knew he was trying to distract her and jabbed him in the ribs to make him stop.

"I don't enjoy making enemies the way you do," she replied. "What do you know about this?"

"What makes you think I know anything about it?"

"What makes _you_ think I can't tell when you're lying?"

"Your radar is malfunctioning."

Raven rolled her eyes and nudged him. " _Really?"_

He sighed exasperatedly. "Sandsmark tried to flirt with me once. She's probably just bitter."

She stilled, jealousy sparking in the back of her mind. The Amazonian was undeniably beautiful and powerful. She couldn't for the life of her remember if she'd ever been jealous before. "You must have been tempted."

Damian scoffed, tracing his hand reassuringly along the dip in her waist. "No."

She bit her lip. "Most men would be."

"Most men are shallow fools. And you don't have to fish for a compliment if you want one."

"I'd like one."

He pulled back and tilted her chin up to look at him, amusement glinting in his jade eyes. "You're absurdly beautiful. Keep hiding under that hood of yours, beloved. We can't have everyone knowing."

A small smile crept up on her and she planted a light kiss on the underside of his jaw before resting her head against his shoulder again. A familiar feeling coiled in her chest as they looked out over the ocean, the two of them pressed close. Raven could tell he felt it too by the way he cinched her more tightly against him.

" _'iilaa al'abad,"_ he said softly.

" _Dayimaan,"_ she replied.

* * *

_"If I were to live a thousand years, I would belong to you for all of them. If we were to live a thousand lives, I would want to make you mine in each one." —Michelle Hodkin_


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Talia is an underappreciated character and wanted to try my own spin with her. Thanks to JT for the idea and for proofing!
> 
> This chapter does have some required reading if you don't know anything about William Blake. Check out these two links before diving in and you should be good:
> 
> https://www.nga.gov/collection/highlights/blake-great-red-dragon-woman-clothed-with-sun.html
> 
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Clod_and_the_Pebble

Sharp green eyes were fixed intently on the screen, narrowed in suspicion at the scene that played before her. Her back ached and her eyes were dry from so much time spent sitting and staring, but she didn't waste a second tapping the replay button when the video came to an end. And so it began again.

"Lady Talia?" Shiva asked, breaking a long stretch of silence.

"What is it?" she replied, refusing to tear her eyes away.

"If I may ask, what are you looking for?"

She didn't respond right away, her gaze still locked on the image of her son. Damian was pulling himself to his feet amongst the rubble, unhurt. She had long since muted the audio, not wishing to be distracted by the reporters obnoxious prattling. Stories of the Titans were all the same - another shallow victory and an empty act of heroism. Damian, like his father, saw the ills of the world and insisted on treating the symptoms instead of the causes.

Philosophical differences aside, distant pride still bloomed in the recesses of her heart when she saw him. _My blood. My only son. My greatest achievement._ She told herself that one day he would see the righteousness of the League's mission and return to lead them into glory. It was the persistent glimmers of hope and pride that demanded she check in on him, that she always be aware of his condition.

But neither pride nor hope were why she was still here, in this darkening room, compulsively replaying the footage of his latest heroics. She watched him intently on the screen, knowing what was coming but still somehow disbelieving. _There._

The slightest of touches. His hand skimming lightly across a shoulder blade and down a slender arm before pulling away at the wrist. If it were anyone else, the move could easily be dismissed as casual and platonic. A simple gesture of camaraderie between teammates.

But it was Damian Al Ghul. Her prodigal child, who was trained in the art of death, not affection. Her little Damian, looking towards this darkly-clad young woman with the barest hint of a smile playing on his lips.

* * *

_"Umi, up!"_

_She tweaked his nose instead, unable to help her smile when he scowled at her with more ferocity than a ten month old had any right to. Damian thrashed his little feet indignantly. "Umi…"_

" _Sleep, little prince," Talia chided. Their nightly routine was her favorite part of the day, more often than not the only time she got to spend with her son. Ra's had been keeping her busier than ever since she'd recovered from the birth._

" _Up, peas," he tried again, ever insistent._

_She sighed, glancing back towards the door to make sure his wetnurse hadn't lingered before she scooped him up. Damian made a happy noise as she rested his face against her shoulder, one chubby hand tangling in her chestnut hair. "Now go to sleep," she ordered softly, rubbing his back._

" _tay."_

_He was dozing no more than a few minutes later, but she continued to hold him, enjoying the tickle of his soft black hair under her chin and steady sound of his breathing. She caught herself wishing for Bruce to be there with them, her heartbreak at their failed romance still fresh. At least you did not leave me entirely alone, beloved, Talia thought, pressing her lips to the crown of her sleeping son's head._

* * *

_The fortress had eyes and ears beyond count. I should have known, Talia thought bitterly as she stood before her father._

" _Need I remind you of what we're trying to accomplish? What's at stake? I wont have you coddling him."_

_She fought against the sinking feeling in her chest. "Children require a certain level of maternity to be well-adjusted. I assume you want him to be mentally and emotionally stable?"_

" _He's not being mistreated, if that is your concern. And I will not have it whispered that my heir is growing soft and weak because of you. The League of Shadows requires a strong hand to rule, the Al Ghul name on its own is not enough," Ra's replied, implacable._

_The Demons Head had his way, as ever. She did not see Damian off to sleep that night, nor would she for any of the following nights._

* * *

She deliberated over the next few days, attempting to convince herself that it truly _was_ a meaningless habit that her son had picked up after so many years spent with Bruce and his cavalcade of orphans. Acknowledging it may be something more meant grappling with the possibility that Damian was lost to the League - lost to _her_ \- forever. The thought caused a dull spike of pain in a long-buried place, and Talia quickly channeled the distant emotion into determination.

_I am an Al Ghul. I will not languish in uncertainty._

At any rate, it was past time she called on him. Damian needed to be reminded of his heritage, of what was waiting for him.

She bid Lady Shiva to oversee things in her absence. When she mentioned she would be going stateside, something flashed in the other woman's dark eyes and she wondered for a moment whether she should offer to check in on Cassandra before pushing the thought away. _Swallow your sentiment, Talia Al Ghul. We are soldiers first, mothers later._

She packed lightly, eyes falling on an ornate chest at the foot of her bed just as she was readying to leave. After a moment's hesitation, she approached it confidently and began sifting through the riches within. Beneath layers of silk and samite, small ornate treasures and gilt accessories, a tiny jade box was just where she'd left it. Talia closed her fist around it, certain it wouldn't be necessary, but wanting to be prepared all the same.

* * *

Jump City was a lively, ambient place. Talia had spent so long in the mountains, running the League of Shadows from the quiet austerity of Nanda Parbat (and avoiding Bruce and Damian, not that she would admit it) that she had to re-learn how to behave in common society. _Rabble,_ she thought contemptuously.

It was a warm and temperate night despite the season, many a house and storefront still bedecked in Christmas lights as the city prepared to usher in a new year. She caught herself wondering if Damian observed either holiday, and decided it was likely after so much exposure to Western culture. Talia wasn't sure how that made her feel - of late she wasn't sure how _anything_ regarding her son made her feel.

Shrugging it off, she pressed back against the concrete wall behind her, eyes locked on an adjacent rooftop. Earlier the chief of police had announced that the Titans would be assisting with crowd control due to unprecedented levels of debauchery and vandalism the previous year, and from there it had been easy to tail her son from the Tower to the tall apartment building he'd chosen for observation. Damian stood cloaked in shadow, invisible to the crowd below, but not to her.

The streets were packed with New Years celebrants, and the drunken cacophony was almost deafening. Even before she'd sequestered herself in the mountains, Talia would never have been caught dead at an event like this. Her social forays had always involved sophisticated parties, political scenes, elegant restaurants. Places where greed and corruption flowed as freely as alcohol and sincerity was a word from a dead language. It was those scenarios where she flourished, trading on her beauty, wit, and ruthlessness to forge alliances and bring low any who stood in the League's way. Remembering it now made her feel like a shadow. _Ra's is dead, the League is dying, and my loves have all forsaken me. My claws have been pulled out one by one._

The Titans had split up for this particular mission, and the opportunity to speak to her son alone was too valuable to pass up. If Bruce's orphan, _Grayson_ , caught wind of her presence, he'd have the Bat on her in the blink of an eye. She stood and watched for a few more minutes, weighing her words. _Your kingdom awaits. Can't you see there's nothing here for you?_ Further away in her mind, other entreaties echoed. _I've missed you, my son. Come home, if you still bear me any love._

Shadows swirled next to him just as Talia prepared to step out of hiding and she froze. _Her. Raven._ The witch stepped up next to her son and dropped her hood, moon-pale skin practically glowing against her dark surroundings.

She'd done her research on the woman - a half-demon whose legacy was both darker and more ambitious than Damians own. Talia had told herself her son merely sensed a kindred spirit in this creature, that perhaps she could spin any connection into a reminder of his own familial duty. She studied them intensely as the crowd below began a deafening countdown to usher in the New Year.

Damian said something to her, his words lost amid the raucous chanting. Raven took a step towards him and he reciprocated, every move they made analyzed by disbelieving emerald eyes. Only a few spare inches separated them when Damian rested a hand along the curve in her waist, while his other traced along her jaw and tilted her face up towards him. Their lips met as the countdown expired, Raven's small hands sliding through her son's black hair.

Talia turned away, setting a brisk pace back to her safehouse. Unbidden, her hand fell to the small pouch at her hip. She could feel the outline of the small box through the material as her thoughts carried her away.

* * *

_It had started as just a mission. Ra's wanted the Bat, Talia was to deliver him by any means necessary._

_She was perched elegantly on a ledge when he found them, all of the Black Glove's henches subdued beneath her. It had felt wrong, letting them live, but she decided it would be better to play by his rules for now._

" _Who are you?"_

" _A friend to your cause," she replied easily. His brightly colored sidekick greeted her curiously, but she kept her eyes locked on him, smiling coyly at his suspicion._

" _Police are on their way. You should leave while you can," he finally said. Batman himself made no move to leave._

" _You wouldn't let them take me away, would you?"_

" _Leave," he repeated._

_She dropped to the floor with a smile, brushing past him as she made for the door. The white eyes of his cowl followed her every step and the thrill of the hunt raced through her veins._

* * *

_The next time she saw him he was unmasked, looking handsome and powerful in his pressed tuxedo. "Talia," she introduced herself, smiling at the flicker of recognition in his blue eyes._

" _I don't suppose I could steal a dance from you, Mr. Wayne?"_

" _How could I refuse such a beautiful woman?" he replied gamely. Talia couldn't help but be impressed by his performance. This is his true mask, she realized._

_He asked polite, unthreatening questions as they whirled on the dance floor. Where was she from, what brought her to Gotham, etc. She was amused by his attempts to wheedle information out of her._

" _I came looking for a man," she answered._

" _What man is that?"_

" _You wouldn't know him."_

" _You'd be surprised, Miss…?"_

" _Al Ghul."_

_The mask fell away then, his hands tightening on her waist and shoulder. Talia smiled triumphantly and stepped forward to cup his face. "Ah, there he is. I couldn't be sure," she lied. "You were hiding so well."_

" _What do you want?" he asked lowly, but didnt pull away. The look in his eyes was impossibly intense and for the first time in her life, Talia felt like she was the one in the snare. She forced herself to ignore the excited flutter in her stomach._

" _I told you before, I'm here as a friend." Her hand traced his cheek. "You look like you could use one."_

* * *

_She hadn't meant to love him. Ra's had told her long ago that love was a sweet poison, as capable of killing as any other, and she had lived by those words. But how could she not love this man?_

_There were endless levels to Bruce Wayne, the truest of which he kept hidden away from everyone in his life. Talia longed to see them all, to examine him like some rare gem and watch the light catch on each beautiful facet. What glimpses she was allowed were fascinating to behold._

_The day she found out she was pregnant was both the best and worst of her life. She had been so sure it was the final piece of persuasion she needed to win him to her side. Instead it had been a monstrous argument, culminating when he suggested this had been her plan from the beginning._

" _Unsurprisingly ruthless of Ra's to use you this way. I'm certain he'll be impressed with your results."_

 _The truth in his statement made her blood boil, even as another part of her was begging him to understand how he had captivated her. "You doubt_ my _conviction? When you're the one choosing your pointless, self-imposed mission over my love for you?"_

" _No, Talia. That's what you're doing."_

* * *

She'd feigned a miscarriage in the end, knowing Bruce would never abide Ra's Al Ghul to raise his child. _Does he know about them?_ she wondered. Perhaps it was only a casual relationship...but no. Talia knew what she had seen, and while her son had become a stranger in some ways, she could not believe he would share any part of himself carelessly.

If her discovery had proven anything, it was that Damian had more of her in him than he realized. Talia loved passionately - destructively, even. There was a sensuousness to the Al Ghuls not at all present in the Waynes. Even her father's blood had once run hot for Melisande, though he wasted no time ousting her after Talia was born. Bruce may as well have been a glacier for all he allowed himself to feel.

_He is as much mine as yours, beloved. And better than the both of us._

She thought back to Raven again. The two of them weren't so different, born and bred to serve their sires above all else. But the other woman rebelled in a way Talia had never dared, and what a bitter realization that was. _Damian rebelled too. Perhaps if you had been a better mother, he wouldn't have._ It was a useless thought, the past was the past, and whether or not she'd always been allowed to show it, Talia loved her son. _That_ she was certain of.

The jade box mocked her from its spot on the bureau. It had been wise to bring it after all.

* * *

A collection of William Blake paintings were on loan to Jump City's museum, and it was there she found the object of her son's affection, standing before one of Blake's Great Red Dragons. Talia's long hair was bound in a scarf, telltale green eyes hidden beneath a pair of sunglasses. She'd watched Raven mill about the museum for nearly an hour, but something about the red dragon kept calling her back to this spot. She moved next to her casually.

"Favorite of yours?"

Raven shrugged and kept her eyes forward. "I thought it would be bigger."

Talias eyes raked the painting. Shed thought the same the first time she saw it. _A battle of good and evil deserves a larger canvas._

"And the dragon should have seven heads," Talia responded. Someone had told her that, once.

The witch gave her a sidelong glance. "So the bible says. But Christians like to exaggerate."

_I suppose you would know better than they._

"I prefer Blake's poetry to his art." She recalled a morning long past, where she'd recited The Clod and the Pebble while wrapped in Bruce's arms. " _What do you think, beloved?"_ she'd asked. " _Is love selfish or unselfish? Do I bring you heaven or hell?"_ His only response had been to press a kiss deep into her skin, and to this day she wondered if he'd been afraid to answer her honestly.

"Love seeketh not itself to please, Nor for itself hath any care; But for another gives its ease, And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair."

Talia started, head whipping to face the young woman next to her. _How did she…?_

Raven wore an unamused smile, gem-like eyes searching and unafraid. "But you know nothing of hell's despair." Her tone was nothing less than factual. "Who are you?"

She quickly recovered her composure, meeting her stare unflinchingly despite the danger that flickered across those purple irises. "No one," she answered. _A lioness, chained and declawed. Can you imagine the indignity? I pray you are never caged._ "I'll leave you to your dragon."

"I'll allow it," Raven replied in that same confident tone. Talia decided that she liked this pretty little demon. _I wonder what Ra's would have made of her._

* * *

_Damian sat patiently on his knees, still as a statue with one hand outstretched. He was alone in the garden and hadn't moved since she spotted him. A few more minutes passed before a flicker of movement in the underbrush caught her attention._

_Furtively, with agonizing slowness, a small red fox detached itself from the foliage and took a tentative step towards her son. When Damian didn't move it padded closer, flinching every few steps as if it hadn't quite decided on him. At long last, it reached him and stretched forward to pluck something from his open palm, jaws working as it bolted down whatever treat her son had offered. Damian reached forward slowly, gently scratching between its pointed ears as it licked its chops. She'd seen enough._

" _Damian," she called from the doorway. The fox vanished in a flash of red and her son stood up and turned towards her._

" _Yes, mother?" He was short for a ten year old, something her father had remarked on irritably as though it was_ her _fault._

" _I dont think your grandfather would approve of his heir playing with wild animals," she said sternly. Ra's was constantly looking for signs of weakness in his prodigy and she wouldn't put it past him to make Damian kill the fox if he'd seen this display._

" _Very well," he replied evenly, his face a mask of apathy. He was a perfect blend of her and Bruce, her golden skin and cat-green eyes, and his fathers dark hair and strong features. He looked more like him every day._

" _Come along. You have lessons."_

_He fell into step beside her as they made their way to Ra's for his morning drills, arms held behind his back like the perfect soldier he was. "Mother?"_

" _What is it?"_

" _I'd like to know about my father."_

_Talia sighed. She'd been expecting him to ask any day now, their visit from Deathstroke's daughter Rose clearly having piqued his curiosity. "What of him, Damian? The Bat certainly isn't interested in knowing about you." The lie tasted bitter on her tongue, even if she agreed with Ra's about its necessity. Her son would need to face his father in battle one day, and it would be all the better if he already harbored some hostility._

" _I could prove to him that I'm worthy. Grandfather tells me I'm ahead in my training, and that I'm better with a blade than-"_

" _The answer is no."_

_He fell silent and guilt twisted somewhere in her hardened heart. "You will meet him someday, Damian. But not as a supplicant seeking his approval. Remember what you were born for."_

_He didn't respond right away and she thought she saw tension in his stride. As they neared their destination he had another question for her. "What will become of me after? Once I've defeated Batman and the League is in control?"_

_How many times had she asked herself that same question? "Our mission is ever ongoing. The Lazarus Pit will ensure you have many lifetimes to keep watch over the world. At some point, Ra's will make a match for you and you will have your own heir to continue our good work."_

_And may your union end more happily than my own, she wished silently._

* * *

"Mother."

She smiled wistfully, not yet turning around.

"Damian. It's good to hear your voice."

"It was you at the museum, then."

She faced him, only now realizing how much taller than her he'd grown. "I see she keeps no secrets from you."

He said nothing for a moment, suspicious jade eyes locked on hers. "Why are you here?"

_I hardly know anymore._

"I thought I was imagining it," she responded. "Your little signs of affection. I had to know for sure...and I had to try and bring you home one last time."

"My home isn't with you."

His words cut her more deeply than she expected. _When did I grow so weak?_ Talia thought tiredly. "I can see that now," she replied. "I have something for you."

She ignored the way he tensed as she reached into her pouch. She had never once raised a hand against him, not even when he defected from the League. Ra's Al Ghul had been practically frothing with fury, and her pleas for mercy had fallen on deaf ears. Fortunately, her son was more than a match for Maya Ducard and the other would-be assassins who'd been sent after him.

Talia held the box out to him, feeling uncharacteristically weary. "Something your father gave to me long ago, when we stood a chance. I have no use for it anymore."

Damian didn't take it right away, looking stunningly like Bruce as suspicion settled across his features. "Why?"

"Women love trinkets. It's a weakness in us," she answered loftily. The emerald engagement ring had been her greatest treasure once. He'd chosen the stone to match her eyes, he said, but when she looked at the green and gold ornament all she could think of was the League.

He took it from her and she smiled. "I'll leave you to her now. It was good to see you, Damian."

"Wait," he said. "I can't believe this is what you came here for. You've always...you told me love was a liability."

"It is." She turned to leave, too tired to continue.

_A dragon may need seven heads, but a demon could be happy with just two. I hope you come back to me, Damian, and not alone._


	17. Mini-update, Happy Valentine's Day!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the holiday saga continues! Decided to step out of my comfort zone a bit and try my hand at something smutty. Not too sure about the final result, but hope you all enjoy!

She awoke slowly, disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings as her consciousness returned. Sunlight filtered in through the massive bay window of Damian’s lavish condo, though the clouds on the horizon suggested it would be a cold, overcast Valentine’s Day in Gotham. Raven had been pleasantly surprised when he sporadically suggested they take a trip for the occasion, especially after he’d previously railed against it as being a pointless Hallmark holiday. The day itself was unimportant to her, but any opportunity for them to be alone was to be cherished.

She heard the hiss of running water behind a closed door and smugly felt out his blissful and contented emotions. Ever insatiable, there had been a strange sort of urgency and ardor in his lovemaking the previous night, the both of them staying up far later than usual. Beneath the happier feelings, there was a powerful tension that intrigued her. Blinking owlishly and yawning, she sat up in her tangled mess of sheets and instinctively reached for the bedside table, where a steaming mug of earl grey awaited her. A small daily gesture of his that always pulled at her heartstrings.

Raven raised the cup to her lips, eyes locked on the bathroom door where the water had just turned off.  _ What could have him so anxious? _ Damian was not a man who was easily rattled. A soft clink distracted her and she looked down at the cup in her hands.  _ Oh... _

There it was, tied to the ceramic handle of the mug with a delicate red thread. Time seemed to stop and Raven could only stare at it, throat growing tight with emotion. Dark emeralds against white-gold lattice winked merrily at her, as if in greeting. Raven blinked, certain that she must still be asleep and dreaming.

“It was my mother’s.”

Her gaze snapped up to him standing in the bathroom doorway, freshly showered and wearing only a pair of low-slung sweatpants. He fidgeted, eyes leaving hers in an uncharacteristic show of disquiet. “It’s beautiful,” she managed after a few seconds, her voice sounding small and shy to her ears. 

“I’m glad you like it,” Damian responded just as quietly. There was a boyish quality to his nervousness that warmed her to the corners of her soul. Raven thought distantly that this moment might seem anticlimactic to an outsider looking in, but she was certain there had never been another second in her life as meaningful as this one. 

“Will you put it on?” she whispered breathlessly. His anxiety vanished in a second and he smiled at her,  _ for _ her. 

He knelt on the floor beside the bed, pulling the cup gently from her hands and deftly undoing the knot that held the engagement ring in place. With a gentleness no one but her knew he possessed, he held her left hand up and slid the ornament in place on her ring finger. Raven could only stare at her small hand held in his larger one, golden skin contrasting starkly with hers. 

“Are you sure about this?” she asked in a disbelieving voice. In answer, he raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss against her knuckles. 

She made a small sound and yanked him towards her, locking their lips clumsily. A huff of laughter escaped him at her eagerness, but it cut off quickly enough when she curled her free arm around his neck and hauled him onto the mattress. Damian's hair and skin were still damp from his shower, and the moisture and heat of his body against her own still-nude form was intoxicating. He pressed his face against her neck and inhaled deeply, making Raven's body hum with desire. They often started this way, with him burying his nose against her skin or hair and just  _ breathing _ her in. Something about the act felt worshipful, and it never failed to elicit an excited tremble from her.

Damian slid his hands along her body, gentle caresses along her breasts, sides, hips, and thighs. One trailed down her left arm to lace their fingers together, the move calling her attention back to the pale gold she now wore. Raven drew his face back up to hers for a hungry kiss before flipping them over and straddling his hips, evidence of his own need pressing into her through his sweatpants. She growled to herself, yanking at the waistband and eyeing him expectantly.

"What's your hurry?" he asked, amused.

_ Any moment now I'm going to wake up _ , she refrained from answering. It had been a recurring thought ever since they'd gotten together, Raven unable to believe this kind of happiness was ever possible for her. She ignored his question, instead leaning over to steal another needy kiss and pulling again on his sweatpants. Damian obliged, shifting beneath her and tossing the clothing carelessly across the room. She reached between them to stroke him with feather light touches, earning a low groan. Raven leaned back up, smiling at the dark, hungry look in his eyes as his hands traced gentle patterns into the back of her thighs. 

She sank down on him with a whimper, still a bit ender from the night before but relishing the over-stimulation. He tightened his grip on her, emerald eyes sweeping across her body as she began a slow ride. It wasn’t long before they were both panting harshly, the need in Damian’s eyes and the way he kept trying to quicken their pace making Raven feel more powerful than all the magic in the world. 

“What’s your hurry?” she repeated back to him huskily, punctuating the question with a deeper than usual roll of her hips.

He sat up suddenly, tangling a hand in her hair and wrapping an arm around her rear, guiding her to go harder. She gasped at their now brutal pace and the feel of his teeth against her neck.  _ I should know better than to tease him by now. _ Her hands found his biceps, nails leaving tiny crescents imprinted in his skin. 

“Damian!” She was getting close. 

“Come for me,” he ordered quietly.

_ Yes! _ Lights flashed behind her eyes and she heard something explode somewhere in the condo. It had been months since she last destroyed something in the height of her pleasure, but she was sure Damian would forgive her. It was a special occasion. 

He rolled them over then, throwing one of her legs over his shoulder and giving her a few more hard thrusts before she felt him finish inside her. They stayed joined for several moments as their breathing returned to normal.

“ _ 'ahbak jiddaan _ ,” he murmured, slipping into his native tongue as he kissed her neck, her cheek, her temple. 

“I love you, too,” Raven replied softly. Her eyes found the ring on her finger and for the first time she allowed herself to believe there was no waking up from this.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of these days I'll figure out how to use tumblr better so I can share new chapters there, but today is not that day.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian and Raven through the years. Fluff and angst, for those who enjoy emotional whiplash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope ya like! Thanks to AthenaDione for her time and insights. She's a total treat, so check her out here:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/AthenaDione/pseuds/AthenaDione

_**Thirteen** _

As the most statistically crime-free day of the week, Wednesdays are for mandatory fun. Freezing rain outside ruins the original plan to head to the boardwalk, so they improvise with a movie night. He's been with the Titans for a few months now, and has to admit to himself that they're growing on him. Mostly.

Beast Boy ends up getting to pick the movie, and unsurprisingly insists on a vulgar, obnoxious comedy. Damian holds back a sigh, knowing he's in for ninety minutes of crude jokes and cultural references that he won't understand. At thirteen, he's the youngest member of the team but more often than not feels like the oldest.

As it fires up, a slight movement to his right draws his attention and he glances over at Raven, knees drawn up and staring at something in her lap. He shifts closer discreetly and feels a rush of approval when he sees the novel clutched in her small hands.

A loud explosion from the movie causes him to grit his teeth in annoyance, and he shifts closer again as Raven turns a page. The light from the TV is just barely enough to read by, and he manages to catch the words.

" _Hunters for gold or pursuers of fame, they all had gone out on that stream, bearing the sword, and often the torch, messengers of the might within the land, bearers of-"_

He squints, struggling to make out the next word through the darkness and awkward angle of the page. _If she would shift her hand just a little_ \- _that's better._

" _-a spark from the sacred fire. What greatness had not floated on the ebb of that river into the mystery of an unknown earth!"_

His eyes continue to the end of the page and he waits impatiently for her to flip to the next one. When she doesn't move for another few seconds, he glances up and catches her looking at him. Raven's wearing an amused half-smile and darts her eyes to the TV screen to show she understands. She shows him the cover - _Heart of Darkness_ \- and raises an eyebrow questioningly. He nods.

She scoots closer to give him a better view and Damian has to ignore the strange feeling in the pit of his stomach as her hip brushes against him. Even though he missed the first few pages, he catches onto the plot quickly enough and gradually starts to get engrossed.

The rest of the team continues with the movie, oblivious. It's not an especially long story and they finish just as the credits start to roll. She snaps the book shut, sidling away from him before the team can take note of their secret reading.

"So, what'd you guys think?" Garfield asks them.

"Fascinating," Raven replies, straight faced. Damian bites back a smile.

He knocks on her door later as everyone is turning in, wanting to thank her for sharing her novel with him. While mandatory fun evenings were gradually becoming more bearable, more often than not he still feels out of place during them. Anything revolving around pop culture is particularly stymying.

"I know. I don't always get it either," she responds with a commiserating smile.

He takes a moment to appreciate how well she understands him, having long ago given up being put-off by it. He remembers how after their battle with Trigon and Ra's shade, Raven sought him out to tell him she was sorry about his grandfather. Monstrous as he may have been, Damian had loved and idolized him his entire life. Killing him had felt like excising a part of himself, and it had been painful in a way that only she seemed to appreciate.

"I brought you this," he says, holding out a box set of four thick books.

 _Journey to the West_ is a personal favorite of his, and he's hopeful she'll like it as well based on what he's seen of her tastes so far. Amethyst eyes light up as she takes it from him, slender fingers running across the illustration on the front.

"Hm. Might not be able to get through this in just one movie night," she jokes, turning her dazzling eyes back on his.

"Keep it as long as you need. I look forward to hearing your thoughts."

He tries to keep his tone factual and businesslike, feeling strangely off-balanced from the way she's looking at him. Raven nods.

"Thank you, Damian."

He returns the nod and leaves her there, unable to help but feel pleased with himself.

* * *

_**Fourteen** _

It's a hot and humid Thursday, the air redolent with the scent of barbecue smoke, spring blooms, and salt spray from the nearby harbor. Since she gifted him Titus six months ago they've spent a considerable amount of time at Jump City's sprawling municipal park, futilely attempting to tire out the rambunctious pup.

They're making their normal circuit of the footpaths, locked in conversation.

"Despite your meddling, Titus's training is coming along very well."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Tt. You know exactly what it means. You're always indulging him."

Raven feigns offense, raising her head proudly. "I would never."

The move highlights that even a year later, she's still taller than him. Damian frowns lightly and shakes it off. "How many treats have you given him in the last hour alone?"

"Not enough, probably."

He scoffs at her, but the smile on his face detracts from the effect. She returns it before taking a swig from her water bottle and holding it out to him.

"You look warm," she observes.

Damian is admittedly overdressed given the sweltering temperature. A long-sleeved shirt rolled up to his elbows and a pair of dark jeans make up his civilian disguise; conservative compared to the short summer dress Raven is wearing. But as hot as it is, he doesn't want to deal with the pitying looks his scars always earn him.

He accepts her offer, heart picking up at the faint taste of mint chapstick along the rim of the bottle. Titus trots back to them in that moment, soaking wet and spattered with mud from a nearby pond.

 _"Really?"_ Damian groans. He'd just given him a bath yesterday.

"Be nice to him," Raven chides, smothering a laugh.

She kneels to stroke his neck and ears, slipping him another milk bone as she does so.

"Raven!"

"That was the last one, I swear."

A shrill wolf-whistle distracts them, followed by a chorus of laughter. Damian looks back and spots a group of boys about their age hanging around a picnic table, snickering to themselves and shooting pointed glances towards his teammate.

He glares back as Raven stands up and brushes off her dress. "Just ignore them."

" _Hey girl!"_

She makes an annoyed sound and crosses her arms over her chest, clearly uncomfortable. Damian leashes Titus, biting back his irritation. He knows Raven is pretty, he's not _blind_ , but he also knows that she's clever, brave, and kindhearted. And that he _really_ doesn't like the way they're addressing her. As if it's nothing at all to approach a girl like her. As if a whistle and a catcall are a worthy attempt. It's an _insult_ that any one of them could think they were good enough for her. A ruff of fur rises along Titus's spine as he picks up on his master's anger.

The boldest of the group, a tall freckled blonde, starts walking towards them, false bravado evident in every step. She lets go of an annoyed huff, nodding back towards the trail. Damian takes the hint and the two of them start to leave, Great Dane in tow.

"Hey, wait up!"

They ignore him. _Get a fucking clue_ , he thinks, ire rising. Instead, he hears the boy running to catch up until he's right behind them.

"Hey, so um, do you and your little brother want - "

Damian looks back then, hard green gaze zeroing in on the other boy's pale hazel. The words die on his tongue as he meets his eyes, clearly not liking what he sees there.

" **Get lost."**

Titus growls in agreement.

The boy jerks back in alarm. "Sorry, dude," he stammers out quietly.

Damian gets the distinct impression of a dog with a tail tucked between its legs as he watches him leave and can't help but feel satisfied. At least until he realizes what exactly was just said.

_"Little brother?!"_

If he was annoyed by their height difference before, he's positively fuming now. _She's only two inches taller than me! And we look nothing alike!_ Later he'll analyze why exactly he's so upset, but for now all he can do is seethe.

"Damian..." Raven's voice is light and teasing.

He's not sure he can take her making a joke out of this and is about to tell her that he's not in the mood when she catches him completely off-guard. Still in full view of their table, she laces her hand with his and lays a warm kiss on his cheek. It lasts far too long and she's standing way too close for it to be mistaken for anything familial.

"My hero," she says when she pulls back.

Damian's heart is thrashing in his chest and he's utterly speechless before her, all anger replaced by euphoria. Raven is blushing, but there's determination in her expression as well.

She swallows nervously, a shy smile in place. "Guess we showed them."

 _Who?_ It takes him a moment to remember their audience, all of whom are now pretending to ignore them. _Oh, right._ His elation diminishes and he feels oddly disappointed. _It was just for show._ Still, the bulk of negative thoughts have been banished from his mind and he feels lighter than he knew he could.

Someday he'll have to ask Raven how she always knows exactly how to fix him. Right now he's not sure he's prepared for the answer.

* * *

_**Fifteen** _

She's sixteen, and she's beautiful. Even with her bruised cheek and split lip he's convinced she would turn heads anywhere in the world. He hates himself for noticing, for having this ever-increasing awareness of her as time passes by.

But not as much as he hates whoever hit her.

It's a stupid reaction, he knows. Their entire lives are one big occupational hazard, and if a lucky punch from some random henchman is all she suffered, she got off easy. Still, whoever it is should be counting their lucky stars that Damian didn't see them do it.

Most of the team is in worse shape and the empath is tending to each of them in turn, fixing up their more grievous wounds while Grayson stitches and bandages their minor hurts. Damian's waits patiently for his own turn, injured arm held out awkwardly and posture tense.

She's taking care of Garfield's head wound at the moment, the changeling chattering away and bemoaning the lousy start to their weekend. Just as she's about finished, he straightens and gives the empath a suggestive wink.

"Can I get a kiss to make it all better, Rae?"

Damian grits his teeth. Ever since the tabloids started circulating a bizarre rumor that Raven and Beast Boy were an item, the latter has been flirting with her nonstop. Out of all of Logan's failed jokes, this one is by far the least funny.

Raven ignores the question and swats the green hero on the back of the head once he's healed, moving on to fix Emiko's broken wrist.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Grayson whispers from next to him.

Only then does he realize he's been staring. He scowls and glares at the older man's knowing smirk before focusing pointedly at a spot on the floor. Damian manages to keep his gaze from wandering over the next several minutes and then she's in front of him, reaching to undo the loose dressing on his arm. He switches his focus to that, watching bloody linen fall away to reveal a deep cut running vertically from his bicep to his forearm. Her pale fingers dance along his tanned skin and begin to glow, and the strange hyper-awareness he's been so afflicted with recently hits him full force.

His eyes track from her hand up her slender arm to her shoulder, from there to the shiny blue-black of her hair and ivory paleness of her skin. _Iridescent_ , is the only word his distracted mind can come up with. He's finally taller than her, but seated his eyes are level with the red orb at her throat.

Her injured face causes a faint stir of rage, so he drops his eyes quickly, drinking in the glint of the medbay lights against her spandex bodysuit. Her cloak whispers as it brushes against her body, hints of lavender and spice filling the air with each move she makes. A few errant drops of blood are spattered down her front, likely from the cut on her lip. His gaze trails further to the indent of her waist and flare of her hip, down her long, toned legs-

"Eyes up, bird boy."

Damian flushes, mortified and mentally castigating himself for getting distracted by her _again. What the fuck is wrong with me lately?_ He looks up, ready to apologize but the words die when he sees her coy smile and the smug glint in her eye. Raven drops his now fully-healed arm and turns to leave, no doubt needing to meditate after expending so much energy. He watches as she goes, all manner of turbulent emotions flowing through him.

A snort of laughter reminds him his brother is still in the room.

"Can you please fuck off?"

Grayson tosses the last of supplies back in their med kit and snickers as he leaves, mumbling something about 'puberty' to himself.

Damian drops his head in his hands wanting to be angry at himself, but too busy replaying Raven's expression in his mind.

* * *

_**Sixteen** _

"Hecate? Like the Greek god?"

"Why do you sound so skeptical? We've _met_ gods before," she shoots back.

Damian frowns. He knows how excited she is to be joining Justice League Dark, how proud she is of being the youngest member on the roster, but he can't help feeling nervous. He has suspicions about why they're calling Raven in on this one.

"So, why you?"

She glares lightly, clearly wanting a more enthusiastic reaction to her news. "Wonder Woman says this is the greatest magical threat they've ever faced. They're calling in almost everybody."

 _Cannon fodder._ He does his best to force the thought away. Raven's more powerful than most magic-users, and her demonic heritage should give her an edge. She'll survive.

Damian watches as she moves around her room, pulling down spellbooks and magical tomes to study before she leaves tomorrow. Her eyes are bright and eager, and she's moving with a nervous energy he's never seen on her before. The sight warms him, even as his doubts refuse to leave his mind.

When Raven's created a respectable stack of books, she plunks down cross-legged on her bed. "You worked with the Justice League before coming here. Any tips for making a good impression?"

"You're asking _me?_ Also, you know _Constantine_ is on the team, right?"

"Hm. Point taken." She smiles at him, so uncharacteristically giddy he can't help but return it. "That's better. Be happy for me."

"I am." _Mostly._

Damian decides to leave so she can get to her studying, but lingers in the doorway for a moment. The unwelcome idea that this might be one of the last times he sees her - has her alone - flits across his mind and...he should tell her. He really should.

He doesn't.

Three days after they leave, they lose all contact with Justice League Dark.

Time bleeds. Three days turn to five, a week, two weeks, a month, six months. Damian clings to hope longer than most, after all, if they'd lost wouldn't the world be destroyed by now? Even with that fact, each month makes it harder to believe in their eventual return.

Titus misses her almost as keenly as he does, still looking expectantly towards Raven's door and waiting for her to come join them whenever they go for a walk. It's an aggravating reminder, so one day Damian shows him her empty room, hoping the Great Dane will finally realize she's gone.

The dog scents the air, padding around her room for a few seconds before jumping up and settling down on her bed. He looks up at his master, head cocked curiously. _How long do we wait?_ , his look says.

His eyes trail to the foot of her bed, staring at the spot where she'd been sitting and remembering how radiant she'd looked in that moment. Then he blinks and he's back in the present, standing in an empty room, the air stale and dusty from disuse. A tomb. And he knows he can't spend another second in this Tower.

* * *

_**Seventeen** _

It's been over a year and Bludhaven has never been quieter.

Damian's routine is simple: wake, train, patrol, sleep. Some meals scattered in here and there. His work is his life now through, a nameless vigilante alongside Nightwing, every bit as obsessed and tireless as the Batman.

Today is different, though. The heroes of Justice League Dark have finally been declared dead, and their memorial ceremony at the Hall of Justice is set to begin shortly. The somber mood operates like increased gravity, rendering everyone's movements slow and numb.

Damian barely hears the speech, having long ago perfected the art of retreating inside his own mind when outside stimuli is too unpleasant. His eyes keep drifting towards the curtain behind Superman, where statues of their fallen friends are no doubt waiting to be revealed.

Raven wouldn't have wanted a statue, Damian knows. _She hated just being in pictures._ He never asked her why, and wishes he had.

At long last the eulogy comes to an end and the curtain drops. Her white marble likeness is a massive disappointment to him - too cocky, too...aggressive. Raven was never one to wear her strength on her sleeve. He can almost hear her indignant huff _(Why not go all the way and give me a Superman pose?)_

A muffled sob nearby distracts him from his musing and he looks over to see Inza Cramer kneeling before Dr. Fate's statue. ( _His must be a better likeness_ ) the phantom Raven in his head whispers. All at once Damian feels a tightening in his chest and a burn in his throat, and he snaps his traitor eyes shut to prevent anything from escaping. He's just barely back in control when a hand lands on his shoulder.

"Damian? Are you alright?"

_Starfire._

He opens his now-dry eyes and regards her neutrally. "I'm well."

Kori gives a small smile. "I'm glad. We miss you at the Tower."

"Bludhaven suits me better."

She nods, biting her lip before continuing. "We're...having our own ceremony in a few days. To add her to the Hall of Fallen Heroes. Would you-"

"I can't," he says curtly. Kori takes it to mean he's busy, but the truth is Damian can't _last_ through another one of these. Cold, dead stone is a painfully inadequate reminder.

A few days after he returns home, Grayson stops by for the 'weekly dinner' routine he had insisted upon ever since Damian moved to Bludhaven.

"So, um, the memorial. Did you get any closure?" he asks over a carton of chow mein.

"Yes," he answers, not wanting to have this conversation and hoping that will put an end to it.

The older man doesn't seem fooled. "I'm serious, Dami. You've been on autopilot for over a year now. You're going to have to rejoin the real world someday."

"I am in the real world," he says defensively. "I'm doing fine."

"Look, it was... _obvious_ you and Raven had something going on. I know she was special to you, and-"

"Shut up!"

He hated Grayson's bizarre, pathological need to force things into the open. To say things that should just be left unsaid, locked away, ignored. _Especially_ now. _What fucking good does saying this do_ now?!

"She's dead. It doesn't matter anymore."

* * *

_**Eighteen** _

It's the two year anniversary of the day they vanished. He sleeps in hours past his normal time and takes an hour long shower when he finally does rise. Despite his brother's persistent nagging, Damian thinks he's doing well. He's gotten to the point where he only thinks about her most of the time instead of all of the time.

His phone is vibrating as he steps out of the shower and he sees seven missed calls from Grayson, no doubt wanting to pry him out of his apartment for today. Damian scoffs and tosses the device onto his bed, where it promptly starts buzzing again.

A loud bark makes him jump just as he finishes dressing, and all of a sudden Titus is barreling out of his bedroom towards the front door.

"Titus!" he calls, startled.

The Great Dane is jumping and pawing at the wood, still barking frantically and ignoring the increasingly irritated man behind him. Damian reaches him and yanks on his collar, trying to pull him from the entryway.

"Stop it! What are yo-"

A knock cuts him off and he glances back to the door. _I swear to god if Grayson-_

"Damian?" The voice is soft and muffled behind the thick wood, but it stops his heart nonetheless.

Titus breaks free of his hold and pads back to the entrance, tail wagging frantically. He doesn't remember walking over or twisting the knob, but then the door is swinging open and there she is.

Purple eyes lock on his and soften, lips quirking into her tell-tale half-smile. Damian blinks, but she's still there, just as young, alive, and beautiful as he remembers. She flushes lightly as he continues to stare.

"Can I come in? It might blow your cover if the neighbors see me."

He nods dumbly, moving aside and closing the door behind her as she enters. Titus meets her enthusiastically, excited whines filling the otherwise silent apartment. She kneels to lavish him with attention, baby-talking in that way he used to tease her for. Damian's senses are slowly returning and he notices for the first time that she's a bit worse for wear. Her cloak is burned and frayed, the leotard beneath stained with blood and dirt. The light purple tights that encase her legs are covered in a series of rents, pale skin peeking through the damage.

"Are you hurt?" He's barely able to get above a whisper, worried she'll vanish like a mirage if he does anything too fast or too loud.

"Hm?" She glances down at her damaged uniform. "I'm fine. Nice thing about having a bunch of other magic-users around, we can patch each other up pretty well."

"You look exactly how I remember you," Damian murmurs. "Like no time has passed."

"Well...it hasn't. It's only been three days for me. Hecate's dimension was on a different temporal plane. We had no idea how much time was passing here."

He nods, still feeling that this might be a dream. "You won?"

A proud smile pulls at her lips, but she doesn't answer. Something in her expression turns sad and apologetic as she steps forward and rests a hand on his cheek. "You look tired, Damian," she says softly. "Beaten down."

He leans into the warm touch. "I thought you were dead," he says, no other explanation needed.

"I know. I came as soon as they told us." The hand on his cheek slips back into his hair, soft and soothing. "These last few years have been hard on you, haven't they?"

He nods. _I was a ghost. I woke and slept and trained and fought, but I felt nothing_. The fact she's here, that she came straight to him, that she _knew_ how badly he needed her...he realizes that it doesn't matter that he never actually told her before she left. Raven's known for years, probably even before he himself realized it.

He closes the distance between them, every sense working overtime to makeup for two years of malnourishment. Sight, sound, touch, smell… Damian tips her face up to his to claim the last.

The two soon find themselves laying on the couch, his head on her chest and letting the strong beat of her heart lull him into contentment. She's stripped off her ruined uniform and donned one of his soft cotton t-shirts, her lavender scent blending with his own in a perfect combination. Raven cards her fingers through his hair before gliding them across his neck and back, occasionally pressing her lips to the crown of his head as she does so. Damian thinks he would gladly fight Hecate himself for the chance to stay in this moment forever.

Morning eventually threatens, and he catches her hand in his as it makes another trail across his skin.

"Damian?" she asks in a voice misty with fatigue.

"I love you."

Raven already knows, but deserves to hear it out loud.

* * *

_**Nineteen** _

It's mid-morning in their bedroom. Not for the first time since she returned to him, Damian has no desire to move, speak, think - anything that might shatter the moment. They're encased in soft sheets and plush pillows, and his entire world is consumed by the indigo shine of her hair and pale perfection of her skin.

She's still asleep, happily exhausted, and he can't help feeling at least a little smug. He stays in bed far later than is his custom, until hazy amethyst eyes finally open and find his.

"You're still here?" she asks with a yawn.

"I've nowhere else to be." While he's gotten better about it, there are some days where he still can't stand to have her out of his sight. Two years of grief have made him greedy when it comes to her.

Raven sees through him, as she always does. She shifts closer to embrace him, planting a warm kiss on the corner of his mouth. "You don't have to stay. I'm not going to disappear," she mumbles into his skin.

"I don't want to be anywhere else."

That earns him another kiss.

"Then let's stay."


End file.
